


Green Wings

by slowdog



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Goldilocks!, Multi, Mutual Pining, Original Special Operations Squad | Squad Levi, Promotion, Slow Burn, pals, rivetra, scout band?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 60,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28219395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowdog/pseuds/slowdog
Summary: For the six whole months since it's creation, the Special Operations Squad has been functioning at a sub-par level and the Commander is not happy. There's a missing piece to their four-man squad...
Relationships: Levi/Petra Ral
Comments: 94
Kudos: 158





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write this because I'd read so many incredible rivetra fics and I was just feeling completely inspired! Also I love the original special ops squad so much and really wanted to selfishly spend some more time with them - as much as this is a romance, it is almost more about the developing friendships within the scout regiment...what bunch of perfect weirdos.
> 
> I'm not really a writer but I am a fan of silly jokes and friendship groups that resemble families - I had a lot of fun doing this, so I guess hope you enjoy x

**Monday**

Eld stood quietly in the kitchenette hovering over a questionable cup of black coffee. The sun danced in lazily from the autumn window and he looked down into the swirling liquid. Disgusting. Maybe the new addition to the squad would be able to brew it better than this shocking attempt. He really hoped so.

Everyone had known for a while that the dynamic wasn’t working. For six months the four of them relentlessly drilled: waking early, going for four mile runs, sparring and practising different formations with ODM gear, but the atmosphere was constantly tense and confrontations were occurring almost daily.

It wasn’t that he didn’t _like_ his squad mates per se; Gunther especially was pleasant enough after a tankard of ale, when he actually said anything at all. He supposed Oruo _could_ be fun sometimes…but he was usually such an arrogant dill-hole that that basically became a moot point. Then there was the squad’s captain, Levi. He was sullen and distant, but occasionally mustered a sarcastic comment so out of place that it shocked Eld into laughing.

The issue was that they were also all assholes.

None of them appreciated Eld’s spark and humour. It was a perpetual struggle to try and raise the collective spirit, only for his efforts to be at best completely ignored and at worst actively discouraged, earning him a clout on the head plus toilet duty. Recently he’d stopped trying altogether.

He dipped a finger into his grainy coffee and stirred it, lifting his hand and watching the liquid run down it with mild disdain. Shit coffee was better than no coffee…right?

Eld, Gunther and Oruo had been selected for the Captain’s “Special Operations Squad" for their superior skills and stats, but mainly because they were some of the few soldiers who had actually survived going beyond the wall over several years. They also benefitted from being a bit older than the average scout, which granted them a level of ‘wisdom’ and ‘maturity’ necessary to be on such an elite squad…supposedly.

Lately however; with assistance from the ever watchful eye of Commander Erwin, they had come to the conclusion that - though they had made it through all their expeditions as a squad largely unscathed - a rethink was in order. Their survival thus far was due to luck and individual skill, _not_ because they resembled a team in any way; and they were failing spectacularly to accomplish any of the ‘special operations’ goals set out by the Commander.

He was suddenly haunted by a memory from a recent expedition: he had been _pushed_ out of the way as he was about to kill a titan by Oruo, pulling a muscle in his arm while fumbling to right his fall. All this because Oruo wanted to improve his ‘solo kill count’. That guy was such a selfish jackass. Furthermore Gunther had disappeared for the best part of twenty minutes while the Captain shouted for him, and when they returned to the barracks it came to light that he had in fact been assisting an entirely different squad for reasons which remained, to this day, completely unclear.

A clattering in the hallway stirred him from his thoughts and he looked up to a very dishevelled Oruo barreling into the room.

“Hmph. Didn’t think to knock on my door then?” he grumbled.

Eld shrugged and returned to his horrible drink. He wondered if his own bitterness had somehow crept into the coffee as he’d made it.

He flinched, becoming aware of a dark shadow at the edge of his vision and span to see Gunther leaning against the wall.

What the - how long had he been there? There was no way he could have gotten there without walking _directly_ past Eld. It was highly likely that Gunther was some kind of night…bandit…before joining the military. He narrowed his eyes. Were there _day_ bandits? He wasn’t sure.

“Great. You’re all up.”

The Captain’s voice grated through the morning air in its classic low and grumbling way.

“You’re running laps of the second ODM run this morning, so go and get your gear now. Eld’s in charge. I have a meeting with Erwin followed by surveying other squads. I’ll join you in the afternoon.”

He turned back towards the doorway, freezing in step;

“Oh and Eld?”

“Yes Captain?”

“Clean that shit up.” He gestured to the single drip of coffee that had run off of Eld’s hand onto the kitchen counter.

…

“Right.”

But he was already gone. The three remaining men stood in silence for forty-five years…though in reality it was about eight seconds.

“Come on then.” Eld mustered, dutifully wiping up the drip and rinsing his cup.

“Whatever.” Said Oruo, huffily moving towards the door and straightening his jacket. Gunther wordlessly followed him out.

“Cool.” Eld sighed and trundled after them.

********************

Levi neared the end of the long corridor and stopped, looking directly at the heavy door to Commander Erwin’s office. If he had to listen to Erwin even begin to utter the phrase ‘team-building exercise’ again he was going to break a chair, and they were already in short supply due to the regiment’s tight budget.

Not that he cared about that particularly. Tch, pathetic. Sitting down for long periods of time was for the weak.

He continued and firmly rapped on the door.

“Come in.”

The Commander didn’t look up from his laden desk,

“Ah, Levi - please, take a seat.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed towards Erwin, who was rearranging a stack of reports intently. Classic, the paper shuffle; a move Erwin used to seem busier and smarter than anyone he spoke to in his office. Except…he _was_ busier and smarter than anyone he spoke to, office or otherwise, and Levi was in a predictably pissy mood and needing to dig at anyone or anything that dared appear in his field of vision.

“I’ll stand.” He stated shortly.

“Hmm…one of these days Captain.”

Levi looked blank.

“…What?”

“Never mind. Ignore me.” Erwin smiled and looked up, having gotten his affairs in order. “So I presume you’ll want the other squads’ schedules this morning?”

Levi gave a barely perceptible nod.

“If you’re taking the mornings for observation you could probably get around about two squads a day; that should give you enough time to assess the key candidates. I thought it would be best for you to start off with Anna’s squad and observe them on the ODM runs - they will be on the fifth run. Then head over with them to the sparring grounds, that way you’ll get a clearer idea of overall skillsets. You can continue on this way cycling through squads for the rest of the week. I look forward to you reporting to me on Friday afternoon with your recommendation.”

Erwin nonchalantly held out a single sheet of paper and Levi snatched it.

“Anything else?” Levi asked, tilting his head to one side, his unshifting eyes set in a bored glaze.

“Yes, actually.”

Erwin stared at him for a moment, furrowing his large brows. Levi blinked.

“Well spit it out. These brats aren’t gonna assess themselves."

“What will you do if this doesn’t go the way you want it to?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only that I already gave you the opportunity to select a squad, and you seem to have struggled to pick in the first instance.”

“…”

“Right. Then I’ll rephrase. What makes you think adding another soldier will improve the performance of the team?”

“Gut feeling.”

Erwin sniffed.

“I hope you realise that if this doesn’t go well you will have wasted a lot of people’s time. Not to mention the regiment _still_ won’t have a functioning Special Operations squad.”

“Then let’s hope the gamble pays off.” Levi raised his eyebrows a touch.

Something flashed across Erwin’s eyes and he slowly smiled, returning his attention to his work.

********************

“Oruo! Fall back - ORUO! Damn it- ” 

Eld was shouting across the run but the daft prick continued on his downward trajectory towards the dummy titan’s neck at the same time as Gunther pulled up from underneath it, having disarmed its ‘legs’…

“NO DON’T- ”

The two men collided with some force just above the kill point on the nape, falling back in both directions like rag-dolls and coming to hang down either side of the dummy with a slight jolt, still somehow hooked in with their gear. Through the commotion Eld swore he could see a tiny spurt of blood from Oruo’s almost certainly bitten tongue.

“For fuck’s sake.”

He zoomed towards them, landing on the fake titan’s head, eyes to the ground. For a moment there was total stillness, then he sliced the material from the neck in a swift and even motion - almost casually. A perfect cut. The two invalids began to groan and shift from their positions.

“Hey - uh, sir - you really shouldn’t - I mean…we’re low on materials and - er - it’s not like the titan would have just stayed still while- ”

Eld turned and stared daggers at the cadet located on the ground below, who, if he were being honest, was just doing his job.

Cadets and lower ranking soldiers were sometimes stationed to move parts of the dummy titans ‘realistically’ so that the ODM runs had at level of unpredictability resembling expeditions. In reality the movements were nowhere near the real thing, but some movement was better than no movement at all and the constant improvements meant fewer and fewer young scouts were dying on their first expedition…though the number was still too high for comfort…any number was too high…

He relaxed his gaze.

“Sorry. Force of habit I guess.”

The cadet smiled nervously back at him.

“Are they…uh…are they alright?” The young lad gestured towards the two hanging scouts, who were in the slow and dizzy process of winding themselves down to the forest floor.

“They’ll be fine. They’re _supposed_ to be pros, though I suppose you wouldn’t know after _that_ performance. It’s their pride that’ll take the most damage.”

“Shall I call a medic sir?”

“No…leave it to me. They don’t deserve a medic. You might as well get everyone on duty on this run to take a break. It’s close to lunch anyway and I doubt we’ll be running it again before then.”

“Oh wow - thank you sir!”

The cadet skipped off into the fallen leaves. Eld shook his head and descended to the forest floor.

“Urghhh” Oruo groaned, dusting himself down. A tiny splodge of blood decorated his shirt collar.

Eld Smirked.

“I think I have a concussion…” Gunther was rubbing his temples with small pressured circles.

Eld turned and started walking back towards the main site.

“Let’s get lunch.” He muttered, deflated.

“Wait - you don’t want to discuss what just happened?” Gunther asked, tailing him. Oruo followed, his hands in his pockets.

“I’ll write it up in the report for the Captain.”

“Just make sure you include that Gunther has no spatial awareness.” Oruo grunted.

“-And that Oruo is a fucking loose cannon.” Gunther retorted.

“Thank you for your…frankly extremely observant suggestions. Now why was it you couldn’t be so observant in the field? You know, where it actually _mattered_?”

“Look, it isn’t my fault that Gunther is so damn slow. I had already dispatched my own target, I was doing him a favour by getting his as well.”

Gunther exhaled aggressively through his nose. “Fuck you.”

“That isn’t very grateful, Gunther. Had this been an expedition I would have just saved your life.”

Eld stopped in his tracks.

“Had this been an expedition we’d all be _dead._ You know what? I can’t be bothered. Gunther, take everyone’s gear and get it oiled. Oruo, go and sort out the squad’s laundry. Eat whenever and wherever the hell you want. I’ll see you at two thirty for knife skills with the Captain.”

“…You’d make me carry all this equipment with a concussion?”

Eld inhaled deeply.

“Fine. If you’re going to be a little bitch about it give me the equipment and head over to medical.”

For a split second Gunther seemed almost guilty, but as quickly as it appeared the guilt dissipated and he stalked off, having dumped his equipment at Eld’s feet.

“Great.” He mumbled to no-one, quickly realising that Oruo had separately paced off towards the barracks.

At some point on the slow and laden walk to the equipment sheds he realised he was humming. Briefly caught off guard that he could be humming without realising, he recognised the jaunty kind of tune as that his mother would sing while cooking. Ah…home…he missed it. It was warm and jolly and full of laughter. There was never an awkward moment and the conversation zipped between him, his parents and his two brothers as freely and easily as gliding through the trees with ODM gear.

As the eldest and (they often joked) the _Eld_ est, he was constantly finding new and creative ways to pull pranks on his siblings; sometimes enlisting their help to get each other. Once he even teamed up with the pair of them to throw a bucket of molasses and a sack of feathers over their father…who had taken the whole incident surprisingly well, not even blaming them for his sudden fear of chickens, or the bald patches that appeared on his arms afterwards and were still there to this day.

He rounded the corner towards the sheds and halted, almost ramming into another soldier and losing his grip of Oruo’s equipment, which clattered to the floor.

“Moblit?”

“Oh, Eld! Hello!”

The sandy haired scout smiled widely and nodded towards him, and Eld noted the small bundle of flyers he was hampered with.

“Sorry - let me help you with that…”

Moblit began to awkwardly move as though to help Eld pick up the dropped equipment but seemed to simultaneously realise that picking things up when his hands were full of flyers was not going to be easy.

“No problem - I’ve got it. What brings you down to the equipment shed? Shouldn’t you be chasing Hange around with a bunsen burner or something?”

“Actually I - Ha! Well Nifa should be doing that right now. With any luck she’ll have remembered the delivery of safety goggles that - you don’t need to know that. I’m er - on a quick break to distribute these…”

He vaguely waved the flyers and they flopped about weakly.

“What’s this?” Eld peered over the pile to try and get a clearer view of the text and what appeared to be a rather hilarious drawing of…was that meant to be a trumpet?

“It’s the um- ” he cleared his throat, “We’re looking for anyone who wants to join the new Scout band.”

Eld couldn’t contain the laugh that erupted from him, but his levity was quickly quelled when he saw Moblit’s lame smile, and immediately backtracked -

“Oh, uh sorry. I didn’t mean…you just surprised me that’s all.”

“Don’t worry about it. You aren’t the first person to react like that to be honest.” Moblit looked a little red and shaken up.

“Is this a new…undertaking?”

“Well…yes it’s a recent thing…a few of us realised that we liked to play music while at the pub a couple of weeks ago and we put in a request to Commander Erwin. We’ve fixed up the old mill building at the edge of the base and we’re gonna start er - jamming - together on some of our free evenings, before curfew of course! The Commander was surprisingly enthusiastic and he even asked me to make and distribute these; he said something about using free time wisely and how music is a ‘team-building’ activity, it was all a little odd. Anyway…uh…it’s gonna be Wednesdays and Fridays if you’re ever interested…”

Eld thought of his jaunty humming.

“I’ll pass. But, I mean, good for you! Maybe I’ll come drink and hear you guys play sometime.”

Moblit smiled widely,

“I’ll have to let you know if we’re any good first.”

********************

The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully. Levi didn’t even bother asking his squad how the morning training had gone after seeing the looks on their faces when they showed up for the afternoon. He didn’t question the bandage around Gunther’s head, or the fact that, despite being sent to do laundry, Oruo was _still_ wearing a shirt with a blood-stained collar. Tch.

They, in turn, didn’t ask how his assessments had gone, which ended up being somewhat of a blessing, as he hadn’t had gained _any_ clarity from overseeing the morning drills. There was always tomorrow. And the rest of the week. To make this pretty substantial decision. Damn, it wasn’t long. Surely he was due a bit of luck?

The group dragged their feet back to the Special Ops barracks.

Each of the elite squads had their own small section of the barracks, separate from the men’s and women’s standard barracks - a perk, if you liked your squad. The main benefit was one shower between one squad, rather than having to queue at the shower points with everyone else, and the kitchenette that provided the capacity for tea and coffee, as well as basic meals if anyone could be bothered to cook. There was also a compact yet comfy area for ‘socialising’ next to the kitchenette.

Levi recalled Eld’s first day on the squad, kitting out a corner with board games and carting in a crate of beer he had swiped from somewhere or other, a look of pure excitement slapped across his big dumb blonde face. Yeah, like they were gonna play games in their free time. Needless to say, his joy had been short lived as he was frequently the _only_ member of the squad sat on the threadbare couch drinking.

 _“Chess is a one man game anyway!”_ He huffed on one occasion.

The moment they set foot in the door, the squad wordlessly dissipated to their separate rooms (another perk of their barracks, not having to bunk together) and that was that. Another day done.

Predictably unable to sleep, Levi slowly paced his dorm, his mind flitting through possible selections from the day.

Marlene had certainly shown potential: she was fast and had an aptitude for decking a full grown man, but she was too indecisive in the field. A liability.

Lucas was easily the best combatant of the sparring matches he’d seen. But sparring was one of the least important of a soldier’s skills when It came to killing titans. Could Lucas really be the _glue_ to bring the team together and get them working as one? Not likely.

Dirk’s ODM skills were the envy of his unit, but he was a write off. There was no way the squad could take an Oruo 2.0. _And_ he had an even shittier beard than Eld (it turned out it was possible!) which Levi was sure would distract him to the point of endangering his life on an expedition. No; one shitty beard was enough for one squad.

He sighed, pushing through his door and heading towards the common room. His eyes widened a touch as he saw Eld sat at the table, the embers of a fire dying out in the hearth and a cup of tea steaming in front of him. He was writing, but looked up on hearing the floorboards creak.

“Oh, Captain. Hi.”

Levi stood for a moment and considered dissolving back to his room without a word.

“There’s still tea in the pot if you want, sir.”

Tea was the reason he made his way to the kitchen in the first place; it wasn’t something Levi liked to to pass up. And he liked to pass up most things. Even Eld’s inconsistently brewed tea was worth a try.

He fetched a cup and poured, coming to lean on the kitchen counter, his brow fixed in a frown.

“Writing…at this hour?”

Eld cleared his throat and held up the sheet of paper:

“Once again Oruo didn’t listen to instructions and went off on his own merry way doing whatever tasks he felt like doing. Gunther was too focused on himself and closed off to his surroundings to pay attention to what was happening, and so, despite my constantly shouting directions to the team, the morning’s training was a complete and utter failure.”

“…hm.”

Eld shrugged, and returned to writing.

“Well if it’s any consolation Eld; this tea is…fine.” He nodded slowly, and took another large sip.

“Did you find the new squad member yet sir?”

“No. Not yet.”

A warm silence fell over the small room. Eventually Eld stood, draining his cup and going to rinse it off in the sink, holding out his report for the Captain to take on his way.

“Well Captain - goodnight. I hope you have more luck tomorrow.” And he swiftly exited.

Levi scanned the paper quickly, before folding it and stowing it in his coat. He washed his cup and departed into the night.

********************

A chill wind was punctuating what was otherwise an uncharacteristically warm evening. The moon was full in the clear sky, and pleasantly illuminating the sporadic trees and uneven ground of the static training zone; so called because the titan mannequins were far less sophisticated than on the ODM runs: they couldn’t be manipulated and acted instead as big flat wooden targets.

The idea behind this zone was for squads to speed around it, eliminating the randomly placed dummies (which could be taken out with a simple strike of a blade) as quickly as possible. It was also different to a regular ODM run in that there were a lot more targets, fewer trees and other higher spots to hook onto when using the gear, and the main challenge was in the squad leader quickly knowing how to split the team to hit different points, and reconvening. The area was large and spread out, rather than contained into a shifting circuit as the ODM runs were, and as such there were several shacks for supplies stationed at random through it.

On clear nights squads could apply to train here after curfew, though this was limited to once every three months. This particular evening it was Squad Clara’s turn.

“Remember to count the number of targets you eliminate! And no lying. I’ll find out.”

Clara was a tall, stocky woman - hardy too, having survived a few years of expeditions: a real veteran. Despite this, she was only fairly recently appointed as a squad captain. At the heart of her intense gaze was a softness; she cared deeply for her team.

“If you mess up the counting we won’t know our proper time or if we’ve fully completed the exercise, and this evening will have been wasted - you might as well have gone to the pub. So please for the love of god remember. Also! Make sure you keep your ears open, the whole point of this is to listen and intuit the movements of the whole squad; visibility is obviously down, and you won’t be able to rely on flares. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir!” The squad chorused.

“Good. Thats 32 targets to eliminate total. Now, on my signal!”

Clara fired a noise round signalling the start of the time.

“Stefan, Peter and Hannah - veer left. Julia, Gerd, Petra, you take the right hand side. Whoever’s left with me through the centre, everyone fan out and _pay attention!_ Reassemble on the northern edge, then we’ll return to the start as a group.”

They zipped off in their separate directions.

Petra had been looking forward to the evening training. It was so long since she was last out on the grounds past curfew and she loved the cool dusk air and the blue tinge the night gave the trees. Using the ODM gear was easily the best part of being in the military, and Petra was certainly no rookie. She glided, span and swept through the trees in a balletic fashion, hands down the fastest member of her squad.

She dove, slashing a target clean in half and propelling herself back into the higher branches. She wasn’t confident with solo kills beyond the walls, having only one to her name…at this kind of target practise though, she was a regular expert.

“Nice hit!” Julia called out to her from a few trees away.

“Thanks!”

“Don’t lose count now - how many’s that, three?”

“Four actually. You?”

“Shit, only two… _ugh_.”

Petra laughed, “Looks like you have some catching up to do Jules.”

Petra, Julia and Hannah all shared a dorm room since being thrown together in Clara’s squad.

They instantly became close, eventually returning from several expeditions as a unit. Their trio also attracted some attention for being an awkward looking combination of people; Commander Pixis, the head of the Garrison regiment, had once seen them in the mess hall and described the group as “physically interesting”. None of them were sure if it was meant to be a compliment or not. Going by Pixis’s track record…it wasn’t. If anything, it was creepy.

Hannah was five foot eleven, taller even than a lot of the male scouts. She had dull blonde hair that she always wore pulled into a tight bun, and dark sparkling eyes that were hungry for gossip.

Julia or 'Jules' was around five foot six; she was broad shouldered and tenacious with a large amount of unruly curly brown hair that often fell into her face and caused her a number of troubles in the field.

Then there was Petra…a five foot two pasty elfin looking woman with giant pleading doe eyes and a shoulder length mop of ginger hair.

The rest of squad Clara called them ‘the three bears’ and had invented an in-game where they tried to make sure the three of them were always stood in a height descending line, and when they were successful someone shouted “Goldilocks!”, and each member of the trio had to buy a round of drinks…not that they ever made good.

Since Petra’s graduation from the cadets, Hannah and Julia had been indispensable to her. Most of her friends from those days had joined other regiments, or been placed in completely different squads so they didn’t get to see each other too much. It was a tough, life-threatening job, so having close trustworthy companions to blow off steam was crucial to staying sane, and each of them had in turn helped the other two through the losses of dear friends.

A bright determination spread through her chest. She cut down another target and breezed to the northern edge of the training area. This was important. What they were doing was important; it was fundamental to humanity’s understanding of the world. How could she _not_ be a part of that?

********************

Levi started, hearing the familiar zip of ODM gear and distant shouts. He had ventured outside to axe firewood. It was either that or go for a run, and he wasn’t going to blow off steam by going for a fucking run. No, he needed to smash things. Or at least hack them up roughly. That was a sure fire way to stop all this damned thinking he couldn’t seem to stop doing. Ideally he would be speeding through the trees to clear his mind, but the squad’s gear was locked away in the equipment stores in the evenings (curfew rules) so he would have to make do with obliterating some timber.

He turned toward the trees, painted in moonlight against the inky sky. He could just about make out the ropes which dictated the edges of the static training zone. Of course there was a squad practising this evening; it was a perfect night for it. He squinted into the expanse, trying to pick out any activity or any standing targets that would indicate how the squad was faring, when a shadow streamed through the branches.

The figure hooked under a large low down branch and, after passing under it, allowed themselves to fall backwards, releasing the hooks and turning fully upside down, their blades smoothly dispatching a target in a strong sideways motion before twisting round and hooking back upwards in a full, perfect spiralling semicircle. The movement was positively acrobatic, perhaps a little showy, but they didn’t seem to use too much gas in the undertaking either.

It was impressive.

In the time it took for him to consider what he’d seen, the shadow had melted away into the trees, continuing its nimble journey.

Well, he wasn’t expecting that. For minutes he stood in contemplation. Should he go to the entrance to the zone and wait for the squad to leave? Then what? He supposed whoever it had been was a woman; for one thing the figure was pint-sized…though maybe that wasn’t an accurate assessment - he was a runt himself after all. Would he have any way of knowing which member of the squad it was just by looking at them anyway? He hadn’t seen nearly enough. It was better he find out whose squad was training this evening, then he could fast track them up his observation schedule. Yes. That could work.

Even if this graceful shadow was talented on ODM and swift at target dispatch, that still didn’t mean they would be the right person for his squad. Maybe their field track record was bad. Maybe they had a shitty beard. Tch, here he was again thinking and thinking. He grabbed the axe and slammed it downwards, completely destroying whatever was left of the log that was there.

He’d go in the morning and request the squad leader’s name.


	2. Chapter 2

**Tuesday**

“Hey! Hey - wake up! Dude!”

Petra sleepily opened her eyes to a frizz of dark locks and two judging eyes. Julia had part climbed the ladder to her bunk and was violently shaking her.

Despite her sunny outlook, she wasn’t _really_ a morning person. It didn’t help that none of them had gotten back to the barracks until the early hours.

“Pfft _Petra -_ you’re gonna get us all in trouble again.”

“Again?” She mustered, “Can’t remember doing that before.” She sat up with a smile and drowsily rubbed her eyes.

“Here.” Julia threw an undershirt and bra at her and turned to leave. “It’s amazing to me that you can sleep through that bell. Quick, get ready. And quit your yawning, breakfast’ll be done soon. Actually, why don’t you head straight outside, I’ll grab you some bread if there’s any left.”

“Oh, thanks!” She beamed gratefully, throwing off her night clothes and pulling her bra and top over herself. Darn it all, she really didn’t want to get fifty push ups for oversleeping.

She climbed down from the bunk, pulled open the chest of drawers and threw out items seemingly at random. She still had to go and pick up her gear. No wait; wasn’t it circuit training this morning? Where? Boy was she groggy. She raced to pull on her underwear and trousers, then fumbled with her boots, but found her rushing hands actually slowed down the process as her fingers were tripping over the buckles in their impatience. Ugh.

Eventually fully dressed, she slammed into the tiny bathroom and flung cold water into her face.

Wake up! Wake up dammit!

Her toothbrush thrashed about her mouth and she deliberately avoided looking directly at herself in the small mirror; seeing her dishevelled reflection would only serve to tumble her into nervous flustering, and she didn’t have time for that.

She raced down the halls and out into the courtyard, frantically turning her head in search of any members of her squad.

“Hey Ral!”

She sighed and then giggled in mild relief as she saw Hannah pacing towards her, shaking her head.

“Classic Petra.” She smirked, taking a bite out of a small round of bread.

“I don’t understand why everyone is giving me that this morning?!” Petra stated incredulously, her eyes widening. “This isn’t a regular thing!”

“Sure thing short-stuff. Let’s head, we’re in the gym on hand to hand combat.”

Wow. She really didn’t remember their schedule at _all_. Maybe she wasn’t as cut out for night training as she’d thought, it had done a number on her today.

They turned and began making their way towards the gym.

“Didn’t manage to find a hairbrush then?” Hannah quirked an eyebrow.

Oh flip. She hadn’t even thought about it.

“Oh…oh god does it look that bad?” She stammered, her cheeks flushing crimson.

“Let’s just pray that no birds fly past looking for a new nest.” Hannah laughed. “Oh, actually,” She pulled something out of her pocket; “I found this in the mess hall, thought you might be interested.”

Petra was desperately smoothing her tousled mane, and didn’t immediately see Hannah hold out a small piece of paper with a drawing of…was that supposed to be a trumpet?

“What’s this?” She peered at the strange design intently, “A Scouts Band?”

“Yeah; I dunno, I just saw it - seemed like your cup of tea. You’re always banging on about that old guitar your dad fixed up for you.”

Petra stared down at the flyer. If the design was anything to go by this band would be truly terrible.

“Heads up!”

A small and rock hard round of bread hurled through the air and absolutely pelted Petra in the chest. All the wind was knocked from her body as she rigidly caught the tiny loaf in her free hand.

“What the - Jules!”

Julia winked, “You’re welcome. It was basically the last one. Now come on, they’re all waiting on us.”

********************

Dusty light flowed in from the large windows of the gym, where Clara had lined up her squad, preparing to split them into twos for hand to hand combat skills practice. Levi stood leaning up against the far wall, his arms crossed and an unwavering glare plastered across his face as he surveyed each member of this new squad. He righted his cravat irritably.

The worker in the office had weakly let him know (after nearly ten minutes of flustered searching for the schedule) that it was Clara’s squad that were training the previous evening in the static training zone. It then took them a further ten minutes and several upturned desks to find out where Clara’s squad were _this_ morning; frankly it was a miracle he was there on time at all.

He had perhaps come across a little more intensely than he’d meant to in his demanding of the information, but everyone who worked in the office was a total moron, and he simply couldn’t be expected to deal well with idiocy, especially when they had _one job_ and it was so damn _simple_.

It was clear that Clara’s squad were uneasy in his presence, being entirely unprepared for it. That’s life, full of surprises. Get the fuck over it and stop trembling like a class of dumb school-children.

The motley crew were shiftily glancing his way pretty much constantly; they had been since Clara explained to them that his surveying them today was “part of protocol”.

None of the scouts so far had been told about the new position in his squad. Erwin wanted to keep the their training regimes as ‘normal’ as possible; it was obvious that any surveillance by a superior officer would have some kind of an effect on a squad’s performance, but he feared their behaviour would change exponentially if they suspected they were ‘auditioning’ for such an elite team. ‘The Levi Squad’ as it was affectionately termed. He publicly hated it, but was embarrassed to internally admit a tiny blip of pride when he heard the term used out and about. Even if his squad was currently an utter shambles.

Without warning, the doors to the gym flew open and Clara appeared to rupture at the seams;

“Where the HELL have you three been?! What time do you call this?”

Clara’s rage was no doubt greatly elevated by Levi’s presence. Rightly so; it was an embarrassment to have members of your team turn up late on a regular day, never mind when “Humanity’s Strongest” decided to pop in to assess you at random.

The three women in the doorway gawped and apprehensively saluted.

If it were possible, the motley crew that made up Clara’s squad had just gotten _motlier_. They were a bizarre combination; their heights, complexions and general energies varying wildly, to the point of near comedy. Levi almost snorted when he caught wind of the tiny ginger one at the end; she was saluting, but she looked cross, determined and red-faced - all of which was funny enough on its own without the fact that her mouth was stuffed with a breakfast roll.

An influx of ‘sorrying’ babbled from the three and Clara turned away dismissively.

“We don’t have time for this now. You’ll be disciplined later. LINE UP!”

The three soldiers scrambled into the line, not seeming to notice the Captain lurking by the wall. Good. It could be fun to see which of them would have a heart attack first.

Clara busily began pairing them all up, and instructed them to begin. He imagined it was difficult to pair up such multifarious team members and play to all of their strengths, but she seemed to be completely confident in her decisions and it was playing through into the combat he was witnessing.

Even if he didn’t find a suitable candidate here, it was surely beneficial to him to watch a squad leader with such a firm grasp on unit dynamics. They diligently followed her orders; she was hard with them, but friendly enough that they didn’t seem terrified. Not that he wanted to suddenly become a fountain of boundless charisma, befriending all the scouts and tucking every member of his squad into bed or whatever it was ‘affable’ people did, but even _he_ could admit he had some way to go in unifying the current members of his team. A new squad mate could not fix _every_ problem they had, no matter how impeccable they were.

…Though he did enjoy the ‘I’ve actually just shit my pants in fear’ looks he got from scouts from time to time, so maybe if he could unify them without giving that up…

A glance across the tussling bodies and he picked out three, _maybe_ four that were small enough to be the contorting image he’d seen flitting through the trees the previous evening. If that person were identified, he could quickly ascertain if they were right for his requirements, or rule them out. As it was, knowing they were here was distracting him from fully paying attention to the other squad members, and he didn’t want to miss out on a different potential candidate for being distracted with wondering.

He pushed off the wall to begin his measured patrol.

—

Petra couldn’t believe the combination of events that made up this botched morning. She was starving, having had only a single bite of bread before flinging it unceremoniously from her mouth to stammer an apology to her squad captain. She was dressed totally wrongly to be doing combat, her hair was an absolute state and she was pretty sure she was going to get a nosebleed from stress.

Gerd looked down at her (most people did…because they had no choice, she was just _that_ small) and readied his fists. His full brow was furrowed in deep concentration and it seemed that the very act of furrowing it had caused him to sweat. The tiny beads of water sitting amid the dark blond hairs looked like little pins shining in a pin cushion. Why was he so tense? It wasn’t like she ever beat him while sparring.

 _Pay attention Ral!_ It was always her father’s voice she heard when she noticed her mind wandering aimlessly. She must be tired. She wasn’t usually this unfocused…

Wait - was that?

No, it couldn’t be…

Oh god.

Time seemed to entirely stop the moment she spotted the Captain skulking about the gym with all the casual energy of a stalking panther.

She’d never seen ‘Humanity’s Strongest’ up this close before, even though they were part of the same regiment, and she was sure he was only seen when he wanted to be. For expeditions he was always up at the front with the Commander, and she could count on one hand the times she’d seen him around the barracks or in the mess hall and common areas.

That must mean he _wanted_ to be seen now. But why? Fuck. If they’d been on time they would have definitely been briefed about this. She owed a lot of people a lot of drinks.

He was short, famously so, but with the presence of a fifteen metre titan. His sharp features and piercing eyes bore into the fighting pairs with freezing judgement, and she was nearly bowled over by the intensity, having never imagined his wilful glare to be this potent close up.

She bit into her lip unwittingly as said gaze rounded on her with all the might of a jackhammer. Her throat seemed to fall slowly down through her body, like a cold drop of honey oozing off a spoon.

Time resumed at breakneck pace as Gerd’s fist made contact with the side of her face and she plummeted to the floor.

“Uh - Petra?”

Gerd’s voice was shaky. She opened her eyes and for a second it was like she was back in her bunk being chided by Jules.

“You didn’t even _try_ to duck. I - I’m sorry. Are you ok?”

He extended a clammy hand and she quickly grabbed it. _Get back up!_ For the love of god get back up right now!

“Yeah, yeah - I’m ok. Let’s go.”

After a second of bewilderment, Gerd resumed his stance and this time she was ready. She dodged and weaved his bulky swipes, lifting her leg and hitting him solidly across the chest with her thigh, before he out-manoeuvred her and flipped her back to the ground. …Well at least that was more like how it usually went.

—

There was something about this little ginger scout that piqued Levi's interest. Perhaps it was because she seemed so shambolic it was beggar’s belief. You surely couldn’t _teach_ that level of disarray. She’d been knocked over within seconds of catching his eye, which was one thing, but her sparring was also pallid at best. It was baffling to him that she was one of the small number that fit the profile of his ODM sprite. She was actually, in size and shape (and nothing else so far, he should add), the strongest match for it. Surely someone so graceless couldn’t pull off a flawless dispatch like the one he’d seen a night ago.

Mind you, the others that fit the description weren’t exactly blowing him away. They were a little more put together, sure, but their movements even when accurate were still a bit clumsy. He sighed, returning to his spot on the wall. It was going to be a long morning.

********************

“The ODM run sir?” Hannah asked, stunned, “On the schedule it says we’re riding now?”

“If you’d been _on time_ this morning Müller, you would know that our plans have changed.” Clara nodded in Levi’s direction as she led the antsy squad towards the equipment shed. “The Captain doesn’t need to assess how well you can all ride a horse.”

“Understood…” she mumbled, “Sir.”

She fell back to where Julia and Petra were ambling a few feet behind.

“So, what do you think it’ll be Hannah - latrine duty? Mucking out the stables for a week?” Julia inquired.

“I’m really sorry guys.” Petra whispered.

She hadn’t taken her eyes from the ground since they left the gym. A mist of pure shame and guilt had descended on her following the morning’s adrenaline. She hated that she’d fallen flat on her face in front of _the_ Captain Levi, but more than that she hated being the reason her two friends were in anyone’s bad books. Maybe she would go to Clara in a free moment before they started up on the ODM run and explain that it had all been her fault and that Hannah and Jules were just looking out for her…if it wasn’t for Julia, she wouldn't have even managed to get out of bed this morning.

Hannah cast a long arm over Petra’s shoulder. It was quite a feat and she had to crouch to do it properly. She looked at her genuinely, with only a flash of humour.

“Hey, I mean…it’s cool. You paid for it with that punch you took back there. Which reminds me…how _is_ your head?”

Petra smiled coyly, “…haven’t had any complaints yet.”

“There she is! That’s more like it!” Jules erupted, punching her in the arm while Hannah ruffled her hair.

God she didn’t deserve to know such angels.

“If it _is_ mucking out the stables for a week,” Hannah ventured, “Then I would like to propose that you owe us two dares, which are to be redeemed by me at a time of my choosing.”

“Make that one dare and one truth.” Jules added, “Redeemed by _either_ of us. Or maybe you could just wingman me sometime.”

Petra giggled. They knew how to pull the weight from her in seconds. And they were heading to do more ODM training, so she had that to look forward to. The good thing about starting a day so shoddily was that it could only get better, right?

********************

“Tuesday, oh Tuesday! Cleaning restrooms day!” Oruo was singing from their shared bathroom.

“Don’t give up your day job!” Eld yelled from the hall, where he was mopping the floor.

The three of them were kitted out in the classic Levi squad cleaning attire: one white bandana covering one's hair, one over the nose and mouth, and marigolds. It was just as much of a uniform for them as the harness for their gear, or their green cloaks.

Gunther was washing the walls in the kitchenette. It had never once been used to cook in, and was completely spotless, but it still wasn’t up to the Captain’s standards somehow.

“Is that a real song?” he asked sincerely. Even if he had said it loud enough, Oruo wouldn’t have been able to hear over his own crooning a corridor away.

“Fuck knows.” Eld responded, wringing and dunking the old mop.

“Sometimes…” Oruo paused. He had stopped singing was leaning in the doorway, his white bandana pulled down from his prematurely lined mouth.

“What?” Eld looked at him, a hand on his hip.

Oruo’s eyes went dark for a moment.

“Sometimes it feels like my day job _is_ cleaning toilets.”

“Boo-hoo. Did you ever consider becoming an actor? You’re self indulgent enough.”

Oruo scowled and slammed the door to the bathroom.

“Bit harsh.” Gunther said. “Say…did you hand that report in to the Captain?”

“Yeah, I did it last night.”

For a time there was only the damp sound of the mop swilling around the floorboards. Then, faintly, Oruo’s song started up again through the door. Ok; at least he hadn’t been so pissed off he would stop singing his weird song, which strangely enough Eld was quite enjoying.

Gunther cleared his throat.

“Uh…did you by any chance write up that I have no spatial awareness?”

Gunther was serious as ever. Eld turned to him with a solemn expression.

“Not in those exact words. I did mention that you weren’t paying full attention to your surroundings.”

Gunther sarcastically exhaled and rolled his eyes.

“What did you want me to say? You _weren’t_. Did you want me to lie to the captain?”

“No.”

“Well then.”

Another elongated pause. Eld was feeling on edge. As much as they pissed him off and jerked him around, in some ways he wasn’t keen on his ‘authority’ over them as second-in-command. It created a distance between him and them. Today they were even being agreeable. He wondered ifhe hadn’t been put charge in the Captain’s absence, if he might have been able to get closer to them; take Oruo down a peg or two, draw Gunther out of his shell. More than anything he was just tired of it all, and it meant he was lashing out at them. They deserved it, but still.

“How’s your head?” He asked Gunther casually, referencing the bandage from yesterday’s collision.

“Hm. The ringing’s stopped.”

“That’s good.”

The minutes ticked on in disinfectant-filled silence.

********************

The third ODM run. The one with the stream. It was her favourite. Actually, the fifth one with the really mossy banks was pretty good too…it was a tie between them.

She hadn’t managed to pull Clara to the side before they were called to attention, but she would not forget. There would be time in the evening, in the mess hall perhaps, or the officer’s common room.

Petra had many flaws, but she was self aware enough to take responsibility for when she’d dicked someone over or made a mistake, something her father had drummed into her from a young age. Now was the time for redemption and she planned to rise like a a purposeful and repentant phoenix from the ‘holy-shit-I’m-a-hot-mess’ ashes.

The wind whistled through her ears as she weaved and span through the trees.

If it wasn’t that they were so often using the gear to murder man-eating titans, then this surely had to be one of the most calming things you could do; somehow simultaneously thrilling and relaxing. The Government should make ODM resorts, like Ski resorts where families could go on vacation and fly about. Yeah, that would be cute.

She internally laughed at herself; had she forgotten the _amount_ of training to you had to do to be good at this? It was incredible for clearing one’s mind, but it was also a hell of a lot of exhausting physical work. Little kids flying about, yeah right.

“Take the nape on this one Petra!” Peter called across to her, as he descended to the dummy’s heels.

She was the picture of focus.

She narrowed her eyes, pre-empting the movement of the puppet’s large arm and rerouting her hook at the last second to evade it.

She sailed around a tree in a smooth circle which brought her parallel to the nape. In the blink of an eye, she shot a hook directly past the back of the dummy’s head and whizzed across. The cadets operating the puppet had no time to react as the chunk of fabric from its neck was torn out at extreme speed. Comparative to her breakneck strike, the fabric seemed to fall through the air in slow motion, and the cadets watched with wide eyes.

Continuing onwards through the run, she glanced over her shoulder. Peter looked disgruntled; it seemed he hadn’t even managed to take out _one_ heel in the time it took her to dispatch the fake titan. He begrudgingly followed her.

She smiled to herself. Her team could chide her all they wanted about any other area of training, but they all knew that no-one could touch her here. Even while sparring she had the fastest reflexes and was very intuitive, she just lacked a certain skill and strength on solid ground that she seemed to possess when floating through the air.

Her heart skipped a beat.

From the corner of her eye a dark shadow seemed to be racing alongside her, a tree or two away. The blot overtook her and looked back with cool grey eyes. Captain Levi. In her excitement to be back on the run, she had completely forgotten he was observing the team at all. A tightness moved across her chest. No. She would not let him distract her, not again.

A flare was fired up ahead to her right. Luckily she was near enough to see it. Flares could be pretty useless in the densely packed trees if no-one was close enough to you, and it was truly embarrassing to have to be rescued from the air by the stationed cadets.

She span midair, slightly redirecting her course. She elegantly swung under a branch, and spotted a figure up ahead hanging in the trees, completely tangled in wires from their gear. Hannah. Damn it. The three metre dummy nearby was slowly raising its hand towards her. Well this was just great.

Her mind raced, assessing three hundred and sixty degrees of aspects that could lead to a clean escape, where she didn’t have to take Hannah’s weight for too long. She knew that within seconds of dislodging her she’d have to let her go somewhere safely, but Hannah’s right arm was completely bundled up in wire, so she’d have to angle it so Hannah might be able to right herself with her left arm. Yes, there was a shot.

“Hannah!” She called out, “Left arm!”

Spotting her redheaded friend speeding towards her Hannah understood. Looking up, she shifted her weight and recalled the untangled left hand wire, falling in a knotted free-fall towards the giant puppet’s hand.

Petra shot through, hooking an arm around Hannah’s waist just in time, and using her momentum and their combined weight to pilot Hannah forwards.

“Now.” She began to loosen her hold of her friend.

“Right.” Hannah flung her free arm out and shot her left hook to a nearby branch, propelling towards it and hitting into the tree. She wasn’t able to slow herself with her right arm, but at least she was directly out of harms way, and only a few grazes the worse for it. She grimaced and looked towards her friend;

“Thanks baby girl, see you at the end of the run!”

Petra tittered, glad that her friend was safe and slowly lowering herself to the forest floor to be untangled by a nearby cadet.

She was coming up to the stream, her favourite part. Every time she was on this run she tried to make sure she could pass directly by it; a moment just to herself.

The running water glinted invitingly from among the moss-covered rocks and fallen amber leaves. She breezed down towards it, turning in the air with a bright smile, and trailed her hand through the current. The air was fresher down by the brook. It was her happy place. She drank in some deep cleansing breaths and began to ascend back into the higher branches, looking back contentedly towards her momentary sanctuary.

Immediately she felt unsettled. Whipping her head around she saw the Captain once again, ahead but parallel to her. Had he been following her this whole time? Didn’t he have to survey _everyone_? Her heart started pattering in her chest. They were nearing the end of the run. Why was he still tracking her? He wouldn’t have had time to evaluate everyone else so far, even with _his_ unmatched speed.

He was flawlessly flying backwards and his stare pierced her like a javelin. She momentarily worried that the sheer severity of his gaze might dislodge her hook from its current anchor point.

She steadied her breathing. Maybe he was going to berate her for slowing down to pass by the stream, it was after all a momentary indulgence and she should have been training. She frowned. She could try and lose him.

Out of nowhere she shot a hook leftwards and jolted out of her current path. Hah. A smirk plastered her face as she soared forwards, once more enjoying her dance through the trees.

The whizz of wires steeled through her ears and she prickled. There he was again alongside her, a couple of trees away.

Was this supposed to be intimidating? A tactic to put as much pressure on soldiers as possible to reflect the stress of a real expedition? It was working if so. But she wasn’t going to let him cloud her judgement. She grumbled and descended rapidly, twisting through a small gap between two close branches, then flipping back on herself and withdrawing towards the main section of the circuit.

That manoeuvre had to be hard to follow, even for him. He might be the best, but he wasn’t a mind reader, she could get in front of him just enough to finish the circuit. Up ahead in the distance she could see most of the members of her squad congregating at the end platform. Not far now, and it had been a successful run for her, maybe enough to lessen her punishment for the morning’s previous heinousness.

In a gust of wind, he spiralled in front of her. He launched a hook towards her current anchor point, and it came loose. She smarted, losing her balance.

_Sabotage?!_

Ok what the _hell_ was going on. She knew she had been late and a mess earlier but this was totally uncalled for. Thankfully it would take more than a single dislodged hook to throw her off her game and she corrected her path, her eyes implacable.

They both seemed to speed up. Dodging and weaving in the nimblest game of cat and mouse ever played. Wherever she went, he appeared immediately, trying to uproot her. It became clear that he was trying to block her from exiting the run, all the while his expression unchanging; his stare frosty and steadfast.

Well this was very weird. At least she was holding her own. She wasn’t about to back down.

—

Levi accelerated. She was dashing like an angry spark of unbridled electricity to try and pass him. This was good, it almost felt like they’d rehearsed. He defied even a member of his own squad to respond to his goading so naturally.

It hadn’t taken him long to realise that, yes, this little ginger fireball _was_ the scout he’d seen the night before. Her acrobatics on the run were unmistakeable; she seemed to be showing off. He wondered why, with such a high skill level on the ODM gear, he hadn’t come across her before.

He would need to look at her file. He could not overlook the travesty that was her performance this morning: lateness, sloppy sparring and a completely unkempt dishevelled appearance. Then there was the fact that she’d thrown a piece of bread to the floor covered in her own saliva, and not even put it in the bin when she had a spare moment. He shuddered.

But these problems were _fixable_. Easily. With the right squad leader. Hell, he could teach her some sparring moves in under an hour that would have her flooring her entire squad, he was sure of it.

Then there was her willingness and speed to assist others on the run to consider. She seemed to be thoroughly aware of the movements of her team, and him. She had a brightness and levity to her energy that carried through her actions; an internal and innate gleaming that was unteachable, and it was hard not to watch her.

He could fan this little flame without causing a wildfire, or completely smothering it, he was sure of it.

She was an intriguing prospect for the squad certainly. He could waste no time in trialling her. It would be risky, giving up a full morning of observation to test her out with his squad, but he’d come this far on gut feeling and he wasn’t about to doubt himself. He was rarely wrong about such things.

The whole experience made him reevaluate how he’d originally selected his squad, which was done by him and Erwin shortlisting high-scoring report cards from the field, and tallying strength in a day of physical and ‘decision-making’ tests. How could he have been so blind - people’s talents came through in different ways, and that one shoddy means of selection had left them lacking and struggling to synthesise for six whole months. Well he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

He’d seen enough. Resolved, he nodded towards her curtly, before turning and jetting towards the end platform.

The rest of squad Clara had gathered there and were milling around chatting. He landed, fixing his green cloak and regarded Clara, motioning with his head for them to speak privately. She obliged and they walked several feet until they were out of earshot of the team.

“Petra.” He said firmly.

There was a pause.

“I’m sorry Captain, I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

“Tomorrow morning, send her to the track. She won’t be needed for training with your squad.”

“The athletics track sir?” Clara was flummoxed.

“Yes. Dismissed.”

He walked away purposefully. This could work.


	3. Chapter 3

Petra looked down at her raw hands. The afternoon of riding and formation practice had been pretty standard, but she was so exhausted from trying to dodge the Captain on the ODM run before it that she’d returned to her sloppiness of the early morning. She needed to work on her stamina…nothing was good enough today.

Just like that he _nodded_ at her and disappeared. She shook her head. What on earth was that about.

At lunch Hannah and Jules were equally as bewildered when she told them why she was the last one to return to the platform, staggering and unkempt.

“Wait…he _deliberately_ dislodged your hooks?” Julia was wide-eyed,

“Do you think it was a new training method they were trying out? Like, to try and get you to think on your feet? Well, not your feet because…but y’know…” Hannah queried,

“No idea. Did he engage either of you on the run earlier on?” Petra asked.

“Hm…no.”

“Nah, he just breezed past, barely looked at me to be honest.” Came the replies.

How enlightening. She scrunched up her face as she made her way round to the officer’s common room. It would be ok, she could do it. Closing her eyes she stopped before the door. It was like she was visiting the staff room at school somehow, even though many of the officers were her age or similar.

She rapped three times and waited.

“Come in!” An erratic yet musical voice called, indisputably Section Commander Hange Zoë.

Bracing herself, she swung open the door with a shy smile.

“Er - hi - I - is squad leader Clara in here?”

The mad scientist beamed extensively.

“Why, you sure are a small one!” Hange leaned in and pinched Petra’s cheek, which had turned bright pink; “Clara…of course! Clara?” They swivelled around in an animated search.

“Thank you Section Commander, I’ve got it.” Clara interjected, strutting towards them, “Petra, yes I’ve been meaning to speak to you. Shall we step into the hall for a second.”

It wasn’t the day’s over-exertion that was making her knees wobbly now; she greatly respected Clara. Today had been very turbulent in terms of her performance and she really wasn’t sure what to expect from her matter-of-fact squad leader.

Clara closed the door to the Officer’s common room and eyed her.

“Tomorrow morning-”

But Petra was already babbling; “I am so sorry about my performance today squad leader. It won’t happen again, I promise. I really think I was just tired after the night-training and it-”

“Petra.”

Clara stopped her with an irked expression, “Listen. Tomorrow morning you are to report to the athletics circuit instead of usual training, regular time. And for crying out loud don’t be late.”

“Sir? Um…is this part of my punishment?”

“No. We’ll discuss that at a later time. I haven’t forgotten, don’t you worry.”

“Oh. Then, why the circuit sir?”

“Petra, I really don’t know. They don’t tell me these things.”

“They?”

Clara looked pained, but said nothing.

“Um, squad leader?”

“Yes?”

Petra bit her lip. She really did feel like a child again.

“Ok…listen. It wasn’t Hannah or Julia’s fault this morning. I overslept and they were just making sure I made it to the gym. Please be lenient with them when you dole out punishment.”

Petra’s large amber eyes were swimming with remorse. Clara sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Please, sir.”

“Ok.”

“Thank you, thank you, you don’t know-”

“Alright stop your yammering before I change my mind.”

“Yessir!”

Petra briskly saluted, turned on her heel and marched off. She wasn’t about to push her luck.

********************

**Wednesday**

“…Petra…Petra…ah, Petra Ral. Squad Clara?”

“Mm.”

Erwin pulled a folder from the drawer and opened it, perusing it with the typical lightness that he seemed to possess, though he was a towering man.

“You’re sure about this Levi?”

Levi rolled his eyes. Erwin looked steadfast.

“It says here that she only has one solo kill in the field.”

“She matched me on the gear yesterday. I tried to force her out of the air, but she made it impossible. Her skills on the ODM run were outstanding.”

Erwin said nothing, but glanced back to the file in his hand. She had to be exceptional if she’d managed to get the Captain to say the word ‘outstanding.’ There were some things that didn’t fit in manila folders.

“Erwin, we went about this the wrong way. I would have thought you of all people could recognise that.”

“Hm. Well if you’re certain. I gave you a task and I’m trusting you can carry it out. Don’t expect a deadline extension if she doesn’t work out.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll get Hange to drop this file in your office; make sure you read it all after drills this morning.”

“Thanks.”

With that he turned, leaving Erwin leafing through the folder, engrossed.

He knew the Commander well enough to know he wasn’t convinced, but that was fine. Levi wasn’t the type to persuade anyone of anything using words, he always found that action was far better for getting your point across.

He smirked to himself. If his hunch was right, Petra may in time prove to be a one-woman “team-building exercise” and Erwin the genius would have to shut his damn mouth.

********************

She wasn’t really sure where she was going, and not just because it was a foggy morning. She’d changed her outfit probably a billion times, eventually settling on some slightly looser fitting dark sweatpants and the black long sleeve shirt she usually wore for circuit training. The girls had agreed it was the best option for some unknown athletics-themed excursion.

The only issue with this outfit was if for some reason she needed her gear, which didn’t fit over the trousers very easily and caused awful chaffing. Her green cloak was slung around her shoulders too, partly for the cold, but also because she thought she might need to have the wings of freedom emblem on her person somewhere - she wasn’t sure who she was meeting after all.

She cast her mind back to what Clara had said last night:

_“They don’t tell me these things.”_

They. It could be any of the higher ups in the regiment. Maybe Commander Erwin. Oh god, what if it was the Commander? No. Why on god’s green earth would he want to meet her at an athletics circuit. He definitely didn’t even know who she was.

She chuckled to herself, imagining the fog lifting to reveal Commander Erwin in a white vest top stood at the track’s starting line, and heard his low measured voice:

_“Petra Ral. You and me, four-hundred metre race - Let’s go. Loser has to trick or treat in nothing but their leather harness.”_

At least she could make herself laugh.

Athletics circuit…it was a very specifically strange place to go if she was in some kind of trouble with the higher ups.

The circuit was, by nature, large. She’d left quite a bit earlier than usual this morning because she had absolutely no idea which section of it she was going to, and no way in hell was she going to be late for whatever _this_ was.

The October air was biting her rosy cheeks as she crossed the mist-laden field towards the track. She could just about make out a scout in the distance, who appeared to be stretching, bending and touching his toes.

This random guy? What in the ever-loving…was this right?

She trudged over frigidly, her footsteps slowing as she neared the soldier. What the-

“Oruo?”

She stopped dead. He looked up at her and gawped for a moment, before finding himself and straightening up at speed.

“Petra Ral. What - what are you doing here? Is your squad - uh -”

He seemed to be genuinely on the back foot. This was odd; he mustn’t have been the person she was meant to meet.

“I was asked to come to the track this morning at normal drill time, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone else here…” She looked back across the hazy, but definitely empty circuit.

“Oh.” He scratched his neck; “This is usually where we in the _Special Operations Squad_ train on Wednesday mornings so…”

The Captain’s squad. Of course, how could she be so dense. Was she meant to meet Captain Levi here to be disciplined? She shuddered. He could probably just glare at her silently for two minutes and she’d start crying.

It didn’t escape her notice that Oruo had emphasised ‘Special Operations Squad’ either. Some things never changed and she believed Oruo might be one of them.

“Wait. Did the _Captain_ send you?” He asked soberly.

“No. At least I don’t think so, I’ve never said so much as two words to him.”

Oruo stood for a moment in puzzlement, when two shadows appeared behind him through the mist.

“Hey Bozad, you know getting here early won’t improve your lap time.”

A tallish blonde scout with a slight beard and hair tied up in a bun emerged, nonchalantly swinging his water canteen.

“If you wanted to impress your little girlfriend,” he quipped, motioning towards Petra, “I can think of better ways than being thoroughly crushed in a ten lap sprint against your squad mates.”

Suddenly the biting air didn’t feel quite so cold as blood flooded her cheeks. She scowled and balled up her fists. Who _was_ this asshole?

“Hm.”

A second man of equal stature had appeared slightly tailing the blonde. He had a crop of dark brown hair that peaked strangely at the top of his head, and a deadly serious expression.

“Didn’t know you liked gingers Oruo.”

Oruo rolled his eyes and continued his stretching; “Like you’d have a chance in hell beating me Eld.” He grumbled under his breath.

Petra was completely dumbstruck. She wasn’t sure if she was more furious or confused and it left her unable to function. What was going on? She must’ve looked a right tool, standing glowering at the three men, red in the face, shaking with some intensity but saying nothing.

“Well, the Captain is finishing up a meeting with Commander Erwin, so let’s get started. You know the drill lads.” The blonde said. He cricked his neck, and looked back towards Petra, “Staying for the show? Up to you.”

Before she could respond, the three had lined up at the beginning of the track, the blonde readying the starting pistol. He fired, the sound of the shot echoing in a pulse across the foggy field, and they sprinted off.

She was entirely at a loss. She was missing training with her squad to watch three pricks run around a field. It was completely absurd. And the blonde guy had said something about the Captain being in a meeting? So even _he_ wasn’t coming to berate her or whatever it was he might have wanted.

Glancing around the track she still couldn’t see anyone beyond the three running men. There was a chance Clara had messed up, and she was meant to go somewhere else. Or go to the track on a different day.

Her hands fumbled with the edges of her cloak. Leaving would be bad on the off chance whoever it was was just late, however lingering made it look like she wanted to ‘stay for the show’ or whatever. She absolutely did _not_ want to stay for _any_ show, or even talk to them again after the boorishness she’d just encountered.

She huffed. So darn rude. Not even “Hello, nice to meet you.” Not even “My name is…”. Or Oruo could have _easily_ introduced her. _And_ one of them called her _little_ , which was true, but it still made her feel small…in an emotional way. Stay for the show, _ugh_.

Her foot was tapping uncontrollably as they all passed her for the second time and she made a point of not looking at them. She wasn’t going to give the impression she was even remotely interested in the results of this dumb race. She didn’t want to stay at all, but the unknown purpose of her summoning was compelling her, so she waited.

“Shouldn’t you be running?”

A jolt of electricity ricocheted through her and she span to see the Captain only a couple of metres behind her. He was stood motionlessly, his arms folded and his head cocked.

“Ten laps Ral. It seems like you have some catching up to do.”

“S-Sir?”

“Did I stutter? Ten laps.”

It took all her might to peel her jaw from off of the floor. Her heart surged around her ribcage as though completely untethered from her and she felt like she might throw up. Oh _this_ must be what palpitations felt like.

The next thing she knew, she was running. Her cloak was flung off somewhere and the tall guy with the strangely peaked dark hair jogged swiftly past her;

“Pace yourself Red, or you’ll never get to ten.”

She had been through so many emotions in the past day it was hard to process anything anymore. _Focus Ral! Pay Attention!_ Taking in a few deep breaths she slowed down slightly. She had been hammering around the track, and the weird hair guy was right, she was going to burn out at that pace.

Something wet dripped onto her lower lip. She licked her lips and the familiar taste of iron washed her tongue. Well here it was, a day late, the promised nose bleed. Excellent, just what she needed to really stand out and show off her skill. For fuck’s sake. Maybe if she was really lucky she’d get her period too, wouldn’t that be exemplary, then she could do some kind of speech and even a demonstration on how many places it was possible to bleed from at the same time. There couldn’t be a better way to make a good impression than that, surely.

Wait - screw that! Not one of these asshats had made a good first impression on her, so why should she make the effort? She just had to make it through this run, then she could leave and never see them or anyone else ever again. There was a pretty-ish cave if you followed a few of the fields up on horseback towards the Wall. It would do nicely for an embarrassing hag to live out her failed days.

_Catastrophizing again I see._

Her father’s voice. The thing was, catastrophizing was part of the reason she was such a good scout. She had always thought that those who worried a lot made valuable scouts, as they were always prepared for the worst and untrusting of any semblance of safety, especially in the field. In _that_ context, she found that her rapid overthinking actually became a kind of extraordinary focus that helped her save others.

That didn’t stop it being a bit of a tricky thing to live with sometimes when she was inside the walls though. Part of the reason she gelled so quickly with Hannah and Jules was that they dealt with her concerns in a similar way to her father.All three were gentle, slightly overbearing and had hearts of gold; they would always take her to task over her fretting.

It gave her some comfort to think of them as she jogged around the track, a sweet distraction from course reality. She rounded the final corner for the tenth time, her lungs burning. The two leaden weights of her legs had a mind of their own as they flung themselves in front of one another to the finish.

Clearly the men were already done, stretching and drinking from water canteens, but despite her starting late, she couldn’t have finished more than five or six minutes after them; that had to be something.

“Here.”

The weird hair guy (she was going to call him that until anyone bothered to tell her their names) threw a handkerchief at her. She stared down at it in a trance. Her bloody nose. Yes. Wiping her face she looked back towards him. What a curiously kind gesture. Her eyes softened. Maybe she had judged them too soon.

“Alright nitwits listen up. This is Petra Ral. She’s joining us for training today, so don’t embarrass yourselves.” The Captain turned towards her, raising an eyebrow; “Think you can handle it?”

—

Eld had to admit this girl was bold. She was clearly weaker and had less stamina than the rest of them but she was full of a fiery determination and was keeping up to the best of her ability, no complaints. She followed orders directly and silently…in fact he wasn’t sure he’d heard her speak even once.

He’d felt a pang of remorse for their first meeting when he saw her round the final corner to the track, blood streaming from her nose. He hadn’t realised she was meant to be joining them, for all he knew she really _was_ Oruo’s secret sweetheart, meeting him for a romantic foggy morning…stretch?

Why _was_ she training with them today though? She couldn’t be the Captain’s choice, he’d only been observing squads for two days. Unless he really had just been cycling through squads until he finally found a scout shorter than him to join their team. That must be it. He internally chuckled.

They were just about done with the morning drills, planking in a neat line.

It had been about eight minutes since they started the plank and every single one of them was shaking, except the Captain, who was barely sweating. If he didn’t have a constant glower, he might’ve looked serene. It pissed Eld off.

From the corner of his eye he saw a spot of blood drip from Petra’s nose to the ground. Her face was screwed up in intense concentration and it was clear she was warring against falling prematurely. She was really pushing herself to her limits. Man, it had to be rough training with an unfamiliar squad and an elite one at that. He would have to apologise to her when he had a moment. It was ok to give the lads a hard time (actually it was necessary to stay sane) but it was kind of out of order to be so dismissive to someone he’d barely met, even if it wasn’t a hundred percent clear to him why she was there.

The Captain called time and they unsteadily stood. Petra’s once bright red face was ashen, and if it weren’t for some indescribable sparkle in her eyes, she looked like she could instantly pass out.

“Dismissed.”

The exhausted line saluted diligently. The Captain immediately disappeared. Where he had to go at such speed was incomprehensible, but Eld supposed his busy week had impeded his paperwork, not to mention this morning would have set him back on observation.

Petra had wandered off to try and source her green cloak, which she had thoughtlessly chucked from her person as she joined the race (with a hilarious level of disorder and uncertainty, Eld noted). She was currently scouring the field, blotting her face intermittently with Gunther’s handkerchief.

Eld began to approach her, but was beaten to the punch by Oruo, who practically skidded through the mud to get to her first. He shrugged. Maybe they _were_ secret lovers. He was sure he’d see her over lunch time…he could apologise then. If not, it wasn’t that big a deal, he probably wouldn’t see her around afterwards too much, the elite squad’s schedules were more intensive than the average squad after all. He trudged towards the mess hall.

—

“Uh…”

Oruo breezed into view, and Petra had to fight off a grimace.

“I think your cloak’s over there.”

She looked to where he was pointing at the small, sad green mound that made up her discarded cloak.

“Thanks.”

She started towards it, blood still trickling slightly from her nose. Her legs were jelly, and she was glad for the cool air, pretty sure it was the only thing keeping her upright. Squad Clara weren’t slackers by any means, but there was no way they would _ever_ go so hard on a morning drill. Boy was this going to hurt the next day.

She was vaguely aware that Oruo was sidling behind her as she stopped to pick up the garment.

“Um…so…how did you find it?” He asked sheepishly.

She blew her nose into the handkerchief and looked at him pointedly, letting the red-blotted fabric unfurl.

“That about answer your question?” She murmured.

Oruo laughed awkwardly loudly, his hand returning to its favourite point on his neck.

“Yeah, it can be tough for a beginner. Especially for a girl too.”

“Oh just fuck off Oruo.” She hissed and swept past him, eager to get to the mess hall where she could unpack this ridiculous morning with Hannah and Jules.

“I didn’t mean it like - you did really well considering - ” He faltered as she left him in the middle of the field, his face downcast.

********************

Levi didn’t have much time to read the file, eat lunch and pick up equipment for the afternoon. He carved off a slice of apple, examining the pages on his desk. Interesting. It appeared she’d trained as a cadet in the same division as Oruo. He hadn’t picked up so much as a hint that they knew each other in morning conditioning. Perhaps that was a credit to their professionalism.

Could it be an issue? Possibly, if for some reason they were on bad terms. He’d have to gauge it in the afternoon and keep an eye on their interactions just in case. Tch. He wasn’t about to lose a potentially sound addition to the squad because they had some kind of pathetic petty past drama; no, they’d deal with it. They’d have to for the good of the squad, and therefore Erwin, and therefore humanity.

He was getting ahead of himself. There was equally a chance that they were close friends.

Nah, Oruo didn’t know how to make friends.

It was intriguing nonetheless.

He’d been expecting her to fall behind his squad a bit, it was only natural, after all, they were elites for a reason. But he was right, whatever it was that burned in her was strong; strong enough for her to keep relative pace, even if her body was trying its hardest to give up on her. He recognised that brightness again immediately, and found it strangely thrilling.

One solo kill in the field - modest - but she had assisted with titan kills plenty of times. And she’d taken the optional medical elective while in cadet corps which had come in handy on several expeditions. Her ODM speed stats were unbelievably high too, he hadn’t seen any like them before - except maybe Mike’s, and Mike was so skilled that he had a squad of his own.

He recalled a conversation with Hange, where they’d told him that small scouts often moved exponentially faster on ODM gear, and could more frequently perform swift and complex movements, because smaller bodies were less impacted by G-forces. They had then said jokingly that it was one of the many reasons women made better scouts than men, but because he was still shorter than most women he didn’t have to worry about his title being stripped. Damn four-eyes.

With her level of agility Petra should have really shown up in the previous screening process for the squad; he supposed her general strength and combat stats must have brought her average marks down too far. Also the number of scouts recruits was currently at the highest it'd been (at around three-hundred) so it was no wonder he hadn’t come across her in the field.

She certainly would be filling out some of the weaker areas of his squad. All of them could stand to learn how to assist more, and scale down their immense egos at the same time.

She had followed his orders unwaveringly, despite being thrown in the deep end with no idea what was coming. It had to be valuable for the others to see him being treated with real respect again too: she didn’t talk back or complain, and made adequate corrections when he critiqued her form, which admittedly did need a lot of work.

He cut another slice of apple and sat back in his chair. If she were to join the squad then he’d have to rejig their regular routines a bit with her in mind. Actually he would have had to do that anyway, no matter who joined, especially with regards to formations on the ODM runs. A five man team made pairing up tricky, though it would make it easier for him to step out and observe his squad’s weak points.

He furrowed his brow, his thumb pressed hard into his lips.

********************

Why did no-one tell her _anything_? She fumed, dragging her wasted limbs through the doors to the mess hall. Would it really have been so hard for someone to have said:

_“Hey Petra, you’re training with the Levi Squad tomorrow morning! Good luck bitch! You’ll fucking need it!”_

She felt like such a weak jackass. It took _everything_ she had to lunge, squat and do push-ups with them. The Captain couldn’t have expected her to be able to keep up with them right? She’d done her best but despite her focus and doggedness she still left feeling like a complete deadbeat. Pity was radiating from every squad member's eyes as she struggled to keep her legs above the jumping rope in time, almost tripping on several occasions. She hated it, them, and herself. God. At least it was over.

Her eyes searched the large room for any members of her squad and she locked onto them, sat three down from their regular table. Hannah, Peter and Jules - at last some friendly faces.

They waved and smiled and she realised that it has been hours since she’d seen anyone smile at her - Oruo’s awkward laugh _did not_ count.

“Petra! How was it this morning? What the hell were you doing?” Hannah asked buoyantly.

Her squad was radiating positivity. Were they always this joyful? Or was she just hyper-sensitive to it after the most onerous morning ever?

“Yeah Ral, who were you racing?” Peter asked, shoving a spoonful of soup into his impatient mouth, some of it dribbling down his chin.

“Squad Levi.”

The table seized up. Jules spat out a full mouthful of water.

“Woah, what?”

Petra’s anguished expression clearly affected them and they flipped at top speed into nurture-mode. Julia ushered her to sit down while Hannah barked at Peter to stand in line to get Petra something to eat. He reluctantly stood and left, after briefly protesting that he wanted to hear the details too.

Petra was, as always, eternally grateful. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could have stood up without collapsing. Her head fell into her hands.

“I mean, sweetie, you look rough.” Hannah said, rubbing her back.

Petra sluggishly smiled. She recounted the details of the morning, her rapidly fluctuating emotions, her bleeding nose, the fact that she’d done more push-ups in one single session than ever before in her entire life, probably. They listened empathetically, and exaggerated the hardships of their own morning so that at least she didn’t feel like she’d missed out too much.

“They sound like a bunch of assholes.” Julia finally said, clearing Petra’s empty bowl onto a tray and moving to return it to be washed.

“Yeah…” Petra mumbled. She squeezed the handkerchief in her pocket, frowning. Across the mess hall she spotted weird hair guy sat alone staring at something, though with so many diners in the way she couldn’t see what. He sighed and was sporting a lost expression that tugged on her unwilling heartstrings. Someone stood, clearing her view, and revealed a young freckled scout sat chatting animatedly with his friends.

“Did no-one ever tell you _why_ you were training with them?” Peter asked. He’d been wondering it for a while.

Why. Why? Christ, he was right. She had been so mad and disorientated the whole morning that she hadn’t even stopped to consider or ask them why she was sent there. Clara said yesterday that the circuit _wasn’t_ her punishment. It bloody should have been, Clara was going to struggle to find something that even remotely felt like punishment after _that_ morning.

“I don’t know…” She said apprehensively, “No-one said why…”

“I guess you’ll have to ask one of them this afternoon.” Hannah ventured.

“This afternoon?” Petra looked puzzled.

“Yeah, when you train with them this afternoon, you should definitely ask then.”

Petra’s mouth fell open. _The afternoon?_ What was she on about, they couldn’t _drag_ her back to train with that squad.

“Oh my god, dude, did you not know that you were with them for the afternoon?” Julia shook her head incredulously.

“W-What? How did you-” Petra stammered.

“Clara said so this morning, that you’d be spending the whole day training with a different squad.”

It was like a ghostly hand was strangling her. Not again. Hannah, Julia and Peter exchanged concerned looks.

“Oh, buddy. I’m sorry. But think about it this way, it’s only a few more hours right?”

“Totally - if anyone can get through it Petra, it’s you.”

She stared at the table for a moment in silence. Un-fucking-believable.

“…You don’t know where I’m meant to go do you?”

The three looked at each other again and shook their heads.

“Great. Then I better go ask. Guess I’ll see you guys.” She dragged herself up from the bench and away, leaving her three troubled friends to finish their lunch break. She no longer had the energy to be angry.

She plodded up to weird-hair guy who was still sat alone and stood before him, completely deflated.

“Apparently I’m training with you guys again this afternoon.”

He barely looked up.

“Oh, right.”

“Do you know where I’m meant to go?”

“ODM run four.”

“Great. Thanks uh…”

“Gunther.”

“Gunther. Right.”

She turned and walked to her dorm room. She’d have to change her outfit.


	4. Chapter 4

Eld was the first to arrive at ODM run four, five minutes early for the afternoon session.

Honestly, he was surprised. He prided himself on his ability to show up _exactly_ on time, not early or late. He hadn’t always been that way, but since spending any excess time with his squad was such an uncomfortable pain in the ass, he’d made timeliness his mission. He sat on the wooden bench on the starting platform and checked over his gear again.

They would probably just run through the same tired formation for three or four hours, then he could go to the pub. Maybe he’d run into Anna’s squad. They were always lively, plus Anna was pretty cute.

It wasn’t two minutes before the Captain appeared.

“Sir.” He gave a half-hearted salute, not getting up from his perch.

Levi took a swig from his canteen.

“Oh, Captain, I was going to ask…”

“Hm?”

“This morning…Petra was it? Was there a reason she joined us for circuits?”

The Captain stared at him.

“Tch. Well Eld, it seems your memory is lamentable. I’m trialling new squad members this week because you dipshits can’t seem to collaborate.”

“But sir, _that girl -_ the new squad member?” Eld was astonished.

Really? He’d considered it of course, it just seemed extremely unlikely that ‘old nosebleed would be high enough on the Captain’s list to make a trial run. The fact was that potential members had only been being observed for two days and she was trialling before _anyone else_. Something didn’t add up. Plus It would have made way more sense for there to be a few trials on Friday right before the Captain had to give the Commander his recommendation, then next week they’d do the Commander’s assessment.

“Sir, I don’t mean to overstep the mark but - ”

“Part of the reason we’re having to do this in the first place is because you don’t trust my judgement. ‘ _That girl’_ is elite squad material. Watch and see.”

Well that shut him up. A couple of minutes later the other three appeared, walking in single file looking drawn. Petra was trailing at the back and she had changed into her harness and shirt; It seemed she was joining them for the afternoon as well then. Sure. Her eyes were so big that they amplified any expression she had, so she didn’t just look sad, she looked outright despairing.

Eld stood to join the line and they saluted diligently, just as they had at the end of the morning session.

“The more mathematically gifted among you gentlemen will have noticed that currently we are a squad of five. As such, the formations we have been practising up until this point are useless.”

The Captain scrutinised the line.

“Today's formation will be an arrow. Eld, you’re up front acting as distraction and communications. Oruo and Gunther will travel in equidistant positions behind him to take out rogue limbs and Petra,”

He stopped in front of her and looked her dead in the eye.

“Fly at the back, parallel to me. We’ll use a pincer movement to dispatch the targets.”

Petra’s eyes slightly widened and she slowly nodded.

Eld could see that Oruo was livid; he hated being on ‘rogue limbs’, all he ever wanted to do was cut the dummy’s nape.

“Hey, Oruo,” he whispered, “See if you can stop that giant vein pulsating in your temple so much, it’s gonna get in the way of your blades.”

Oruo jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow and Eld winced, fighting to remain composed. Out of nowhere the Captain appeared behind them and expressionlessly clubbed their heads together. They groaned, finding their balance and sourly returned to attention.

“Any questions?”

“No sir.” They collectively chanted.

“Good. Then let’s go.”

—

Alongside the Captain? Wait, that was a good thing, right? He certainly didn’t need help dispatching targets on his own though, so…it must be some kind of test…

If only she were like a million percent less drained.

_“If anyone can get through it Petra, it’s you.”_

She sighed. Yes, she could do it. She had to have a little more faith in herself. Later on she would treat herself to a trip to the bathhouse as a reward for getting through this bizarre day. She could afford that much.

They blazed through the trees hot on the tail of Oruo and Gunther. She was mildly relieved that she finally knew everyone’s names, though getting to that point had been a lot trickier than it should have been; finding out the names of people you worked with shouldn’t be a challenge at all, it’s literally step one.

Usually in the Scouts (but also in _any_ job she reasoned) people told you who they were and what you were doing at the beginning of the first day, but today had been entirely guess-work. No-one was even going to tell her where she was meant to be this afternoon (they barely told her where she was going in the morning) and if she hadn’t found out by chance, who knows where she would have ended up for the remainder of the day. But then, she shouldn’t be comparing this situation to any normal one, it certainly wasn’t normal in any way.

Eld shouted back through the trees.

“Ten metre target!”

He was flying high and circling down towards the dummy. He was astonishingly good, staying just out of reach of the puppet’s swinging arms, but high enough to remain constantly in it’s theoretical eye-line.

Oruo and Gunther sped towards the shifting arms, coiling over the top of them and slicing downwards. Their cuts were a little shallow, meaning that Eld had to continually dodge for longer than could be considered comfortable, and they quarrelled and looped back around again.

“Ready?” The Captain shot her a look and she nodded, promptly gliding up and out to her position above the fake titan’s neck as he did the same on the other side,

“Take the top - now.”

They descended rapidly from both directions, blades drawn. In perfect sync they crossed at the nape, Petra speeding above and the Captain undercutting, each slicing the fabric cleanly before swinging back upwards into the higher branches. The block of fabric from the dummy’s nape fell sadly through the air.

—

Eld was blown away. That was quite a move. He retreated from his spot to a nearby branch scratching his head. Ok. He was wrong. He’d underestimated the Captain’s judgement. He’d underestimated Petra. He’d watched the Captain take out titans countless times, that was nothing new, but the way she had just matched him almost exactly…she was really really fast.

Ok. His mind was swimming. This trial suddenly made sense, and he felt like a judgemental prick. He glanced over at the tattered puppet. Man, what an asshole he was, she wasn’t even that _bad_ this morning.

The rest of the squad reconvened in the branches near him. Gunther was practically agape (the most expressive Eld had ever seen him) and Oruo was pale. Of course, _they_ hadn’t been told explicitly that she was trialling to join the squad; if they hadn’t guessed it beforehand, they certainly knew now.

The Captain cleared his throat, “Not bad for a first attempt.” He eyed each of them in turn, “but we can get quicker. This time no verbal instruction. I want you to intuit.”

“So, you _don’t_ want me to alert you when I spot a target sir?” Eld said meagrely,

“No. We need to pay attention to your movements. Gunther and Oruo especially. We can’t lose the element of surprise. We’ll pick up on you from the back in a chain of visual cues.”

That checked out. Eld abandoned his branch and continued down the run, trusting they’d follow him. This exercise had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

He cruised through the upper levels of the trees, his mind buzzing. That was only one dispatch, but it was the most exciting moment of training since the squad was formed, and the spirit of the group had utterly shifted over a period of seconds.

Of course it could have just been a momentary glitch in the dynamic: that, briefly refreshed due to a new person in their midst, they had each reconsidered their conduct…but he suspected it was greater than that. The new formation that the Captain had come up with on the fly was immediately more successful than _any_ of their previous attempts.

Could it be that the presence of a _woman_ had stoked some bravado in them, forcing them to prove their worth as an elite squad? Definitely not. They were morons but they weren’t neanderthals. They had been evaluated many times by the Commander himself for god’s sake, there was no way one girl could inspire teamwork in them more than the highest ranking officer, no matter how cute she was.

He was doing everyone a disservice, reducing the squad to some desperate to please box-tickers and Petra to some ‘cute girl’, as if they weren’t all skilled soldiers in their own rights. Man he hated himself sometimes. The point was that this was going well, wasn’t that enough?

He looked back over his shoulder, catching Oruo and Gunther’s eyes; a target was coming up. He pelted towards the dummy’s head before instantly reversing at speed in a well timed fake-out.

Wind blasted him as they swept in, respectively cutting the obstructing arms and heels clean off the puppet. That was new - usually they fully got in one another’s way. It was almost like they were _trying_.

If he had blinked he would have missed it. The Captain and Petra, barely seconds behind Gunther and Oruo, rushed past. The light of their blades glinting was almost the only movement he could see as they span down to the puppet’s neck and then swooped back upwards, having jointly carved a perfect slice out of the fabric.

He watched Petra closely, she turned and skated through the air as though it were as natural as breathing. Wow. She was flowing through the trees easily as water down a hill, harmoniously twisting with every branch and twig, contorting her body like a gymnast; a far cry from the pale, shaking scout he’d seen earlier. She looked like a dancer. Something ugly stirred within him, and he realised he was a little bit jealous.

They recalled to the higher branches again. For a few moments everyone was silent. They didn’t need to catch their breath, after all it had only been the second team dispatch, but a gear had clicked collectively into place and what they were doing suddenly made a lot more sense.

The Captain eyed him and signalled for them to continue down the run.

—

Petra had to admit it was nice to work alongside Captain Levi, rather than the constant sabotage of the day prior. And it was a _lot_ less tiring. She was actually immensely proud of herself for keeping pace with him through the trees. He must have been holding back significantly, but even still she felt rather gratified.

It didn’t mean that she’d forgotten about the aching and fatigue radiating from every single part of her body, but the stunned expressions of the squad definitely diluted the intensity of said pain; a kind of spiritual payback following the morning’s flailing about and feeling unfit to be a member of the scouts altogether.

They bolted down the rest of the course in much the same way, scanning the movements of the squad up ahead, and diving in for a joint dispatch as quickly as possible after all the ‘rogue limbs’ had been dealt with. It became easier and easier to follow the Captain’s signals, and by the final couple of dummy titans she could read his body language from the corner of her eye, without turning to look at him.

Spent as she was, there was something undeniably enjoyable about working as part of an elite team on an ODM run. At no point did she fear that anyone would make a basic mistake: getting tangled in their wires or misfiring a hook. Plus this squad was so small it was fairly easy to have eyes on everyone at the same time. Clara’s squad was usually split up and staggered, and the overall difficulty of the run was wholly dependant on _who_ went with you down the course.

It felt patronising, but here she just didn’t have to worry so much.

Eventually they reached the end platform, in a time so much faster than her own squad’s she felt a hint of embarrassment. The Captain instructed them to take ten minutes to sit and have water, and departed again at speed, with no indication of where he was going or why.

She sat leaning against a large tree trunk and gazed towards the bare branches above. Her mind emptied and her eyelids drooped. It was becoming hard to keep them open and her whole body was begging her to lie down immediately and rest. Oruo approached and quietly sat next to her, scratching the back of his head.

After a couple of moments he awkwardly coughed;

“That was…kinda cool I guess…the way you took out those fake titans. Even though the Captain did most of the work. You’ve sure come a long way since the cadets.”

“Thanks. You weren’t terrible yourself.”

“Just you wait until _I’m_ at the rear of the formation my dear, you won’t even know what hit you.”

She smiled weakly. His chronic arrogance reminded her of the old days and, though it pained her to admit, right now she was finding it oddly comforting.

“Um…Oruo?”

“Yeah?”

She hesitated, and Oruo took a long drink from his canteen.

“Why am I training with you guys today…do you know?"

He paused, slowly lowering the bottle from his lips, his face pressed in a frown.

“Squad Levi is recruiting another member, so you’re trialling.” It was Eld’s voice that answered and she looked up at him in dumb shock. “And I have to apologise to you. I was a jerk this morning, I didn’t know that the trials were starting so early - not that that - ” he shook his head, “Anyway, I’m sorry.”

Wait -another member? Her mind was instantly galloping at a rate of knots. Seriously? That’s what this whole thing was about - she was being considered for the _Levi Squad?_ The most elite squad in the entire regiment - _her?_ If she weren’t already sitting down she would have needed to. Perhaps now she could lie down. This was all a bit much. Just yesterday she was preparing herself to be royally punished for her recent lacklustre performance and now she was potentially up for a promotion.

Wow.

It didn’t make much sense to her - this squad appeared to be on top form, as they should, they were the best soldiers in the regiment. She was talented for sure, but she wasn’t the best. No way.

She’d known Oruo was selected for the Levi Squad _months_ ago (that checked out seeing as he was formidable when taking out titans on his own) but hadn’t really seen him since. It was kind of a shame, they got on well during their time as cadets, and for some time after; though they’d been split into different squads. They had been comfortable enough that she could yell at him when he was being an asshole, which she took to mean that they were close friends. In fact, she partly had him to thank for her skills on the gear, if he hadn’t been so competitive with her back then, she might never have reached such a high level.

But to _join_ the Levi squad? That idea was beyond comprehension. Sure, she could vouch for her ODM skill, but the Captain had seen her dreadful sparring…her deplorable circuit training…he’d even seen her be knocked the fuck out, all in under twenty-four hours. She’d be dead within weeks working with a squad like this, she was sure of it.

Ok, there was still no guarantee she would be offered the position, and if for some reason she was, would she even _want_ to take it? Abandon her best friends and squad mates to run a thousand circuits every morning and drill herself into the ground with these boring bell-ends? No thanks. It was extremely flattering to be selected for a trial run, but she was happy where she was, she definitely didn’t want it to change, not even if it meant a raise.

She’d have to let one of them know. She would thank them very much for the enlightening morning, the many tips and tricks she could relay to her squad, but humbly request to leave, not wanting to waste any more of their time as she wasn’t willing to accept such a role even if she were offered it. Maybe one of these guys would relay the message onto the Captain, then she could just avoid him forever…it had been easy enough up until literally this week.

For at least two minutes she’d been silently shaking her head. Eld was equally perplexed and amused;

“Uh - Petra? Are we cool?” He prodded.

“Oh.” She blinked reality back into view; “Sure, I guess. …You were an asshole though.”

Eld laughed, “Yeah, it’s part and parcel for this squad I’m afraid.”

Oruo snorted defiantly, “Maybe for _you_ Eld.”

“On your feet.”

The Captain rematerialised in the exact spot he had been before he shot off. She made a mental note to ask one of the guys if he’d trained as a magician at any point - if he hadn’t he should certainly consider it as a career; his disappearing/reappearing act was very polished.

They scrambled to attention.

“Eld, run the afternoon. Return to the top and complete the course again as a three, then head back to the barracks and wait for me there.”

“But Sir can’t we -”

“No.” He turned to Petra, “You’re done for now, but make your way to my office for seven thirty this evening.”

“Your office - ”

“Dismissed.”

And he was away again.

Jeez. What business did he have flitting about the shadows like some scary-eyed bat, appearing from nowhere and barking orders at everyone before evaporating back into nothingness, with no indication of when he might reappear. It was unsettling to say the least.

“I guess…I’ll see you guys around…”

“Yeah, see ya Petra. Nice work today.” Eld turned to start heading back to the top of the run, “Come on numbskulls, the quicker we move the quicker we get to go back to the barracks.”

“Uh, yeah. Bye Ral.” Oruo moved to follow Eld. She noticed a heaviness to his expression, he was dragging his feet a bit.

Gunther nodded at her silently, before following on.

“Gunther, wait!”

He stalled, looking blankly over his shoulder.

“Um…here.” She held out a clean white handkerchief, “It’s not yours, but it’s the exact same type. I picked it up at lunchtime, figured you wouldn’t want your disgusting nosebleedy one back and god knows when I’ll see you to return it once it’s been washed.”

Gunther’s expression relaxed and he hesitantly took the handkerchief. He grunted a small ‘thanks’ and placed it in his pocket.

“There was one other thing. It’s kinda weird actually but…do you know James?”

He blinked in surprise.

"He’s in squad Klaus - brown hair, freckles, shortish? Anyway he came up to me at lunch, said he’d seen us ‘chatting’ and asked me to give you this…” She fumbled about her person for a small folded note, “don’t worry, I haven’t read it! I honestly have no idea what it’s about, but he seemed pretty upbeat.”

She held the note out expectantly and watched his expression. He froze for a moment, then, steadily, a blush grew over his face and he hurriedly grabbed the note and swept off without another word.

She smiled, watching him rush off. She’d actually gone out of her way to speak to the freckled scout and let him know he had an admirer (she’d assumed as much from Gunther’s staring). When James’d found out who, his eyes lit up, he began stumbling over his words and he’d implored her to wait while he excitedly wrote the note to pass on. She was a regular cupid; she couldn’t wait to tell the girls.

That was a point. So was she off for the afternoon now or what? Should she return to train with her own squad? Hmmm. She looked out towards the field, in the distance she could just about see the Scout’s main hub and barracks. By the time she got to her squad they’d be nearly finished, or at least it would be hard for her to join in with their exercises if they’d been split up into groups.

And they didn’t have to _know_ she’d been dismissed early…what if she went to the bathhouse now, and got in there before it got busy at the end of the day? Then she could unwind and give her aching muscles some much-needed TLC before going to the Captain’s office…

Balls. That didn’t sound like a laugh a minute. She hadn’t said anything to the guys about not wanting to join their squad; she might have avoided this meeting altogether. Though maybe it would just be the Captain saying thanks for trialling but you aren’t suited to us. It probably was that, or she would have continued training with them for the afternoon. Right then, no need to worry.

********************

As he’d predicted the afternoon had gone without a hitch, broadly speaking. The squad was, for the first time ever, working as a single unit and actually _paying attention_ to one another. That was step one.

Levi couldn’t pick up on any negativity between Oruo and Petra either, a bonus.

It was going to be another extremely restless afternoon of darting back and forth. Luckily he was a master of being in two places at almost exactly the same time. He was sure Clara would have got the message by now, she should have, if anyone in this regiment knew how to do their damn job. If this meeting went well, he could fast-track Erwin’s assessment to this week; perhaps Friday morning would work, then they wouldn’t waste any more time on this.

He threw the door to his office open and was relieved to see Clara sat at his desk, though outwardly his expression didn’t change. She was positioned rather uncomfortably on the edge of the chair, as though she were already planning how to leave.

On seeing him she stood and stiffly saluted.

“Captain Levi.”

He acknowledged her subtly and moved behind his desk, motioning for her to sit back down.

“Let’s make this quick so I don’t keep you from your squad. I’m interested in your evaluation of Petra as her current squad leader.”

“That information should be in her file, Sir.” She stated, acid creeping into her tone.

“I’m interested in what you can tell me in person.” He pressed.

She avoided his gaze and pursed her lips. It was odd to see such a resolute, respectable woman be so evasive. He analysed her; he was used to people being on edge around him, but in their previous interactions she’d been unflinching and to the point, a quality he’d appreciated.

Taking a slow breath she pushed a stray hair from her face.

“She has a tendency to haphazardness. She’s fiery.”

At no point did she meet his eyes. They were so still and silent in the room they could have been sitting for an oil painting.

“That all squad leader?” He needled her.

“You asked for my evaluation and I gave it. _Sir._ ”

“I find that unusually concise seeing as she’s been with your squad for months.”

Finally Clara met his cool eyes. _There_ was the strong-willed soldier he’d been expecting to speak with. Her voice was barbed.

“What exactly do you want from me that you haven’t been able to figure out for yourself? Haven’t you had enough time to meddle with my subordinate and get whatever information you were after Captain?”

Ah, she was protective. He could have some sympathy for that, though this was more exasperating than he’d been expecting. He didn’t have time to pussyfoot around. There he was thinking she’d want to get this conversation over with as quickly as he did. That was foolish. He turned to look out of the window.

“Your assessment in her file says that she’s ‘nothing but a credit to the team’. You wrote that she was a ‘caring, perceptive and very capable soldier who flourished when assisting others’. Yet when I ask you directly, you say she’s ‘haphazard'. So, squad leader, if you wouldn’t mind telling me which of those assessments is the correct one then you can be on your merry little way.”

His patience was wearing dangerously thin. Clara forcibly exhaled and he heard her stand from her chair.

“Take whatever information is useful to you sir. All of those things are true, I wouldn’t lie on a report. But lately her standards have slipped. If that’s all, sir.”

She moved to leave and was almost at the door before he stopped her,

“I haven’t dismissed you soldier.”

He walked round coming to lean on the front of his desk, arms folded. They shared a sharp, obstinate glare.

“So if I told you I was recommending Petra to be suspended from the regiment, that would be ok with you?”

Clara’s dark eyes betrayed a spark of outrage, but she quickly composed herself. Once you showed too much emotion, you lost.

“She hasn’t done anything to warrant that, Captain.” Her low voice was unyielding.

“You said yourself her performance has been declining.” He nonchalantly picked up Petra’s file from his desk and began flicking through it, “Unless you can convince me otherwise I see no reason not to take my recommendation to the Commander.”

Clara’s lips were pressed in a hard line and a few veins protruded from her clenched fists, but her tone remained flat.

“She’s a bright soldier, devoted to the Scout’s end goal. Every soldier’s performance fluctuates from time to time, sir. I would not hold that against her.” She paused, considering, and then; “My squad can not afford to lose our most valuable asset in the field right now.”

Bingo. That was what he needed to hear. Replacing the file on the desk he returned his gaze to her, an almost imperceptible glint of achievement bounced through it.

“Thank you soldier. Dismissed.”

She stalled for a moment, as though considering a counter, but thought better of it and left.

_Our most valuable asset in the field_

He could well believe it. When he thought that he’d be stripping Clara’s squad of their best soldier he felt a twinge of guilt. He quickly knocked it aside.

Clara was excessively reluctant to compliment Petra at all, at least vocally, which led him to believe that she had an inkling of his intention to poach the little ginger scout for the Special Operations Squad. It was abundantly clear that if he wanted to steal her top squad member she wasn’t going to give up easily. Still, she hadn’t been formally told of his squad’s open position, so she couldn’t know it was true yet. Even if she did, there was nothing she could do about it.

There was a reason his squad was made up of the best of the best, they needed to be. They were most often placed in the most dangerous sections of the scouting formation with the hardest assignments. Put simply, Clara’s squad would recover from their loss; while his squad had been floundering around for six months, about as useful to the Commander as a goose with a fucking stapler.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Shit, they needed to get it together, and things were finally progressing. He collected himself and exited, heading to the barracks.

********************

Steam was rippling pleasantly around her, quelling all her body’s tension. The bath house was almost empty, save the distant chatter of women unwinding on their free afternoon. It was perfect. So soothing she would have to be careful not to fall asleep.

Leaning her head back against the stone side she sighed, enjoying the yellow ebbing of the day’s light which poured in from above. The autumn days were getting shorter still; it would probably be dusk by the time she was done. The whole experience was definitely worth the the short walk into town and the small expense for entry.

Petra’s muscles thrummed with low, constant pain, but she found that with the water’s warmth and the gentle atmosphere of the bath house she was enjoying the sore sensation of them repairing themselves.

What a day it had been. Again. Two full days of sweep-you-off-your-feet-push-you-off-a-cliff absurdity. At least in this moment it felt like things were _slow._ At this point she didn’t even want the ups that came careering after the downs, what she really wanted was some stability. She was close though, after one more troublesome meeting with the Captain, this would all be a funny story to tell at the pub. She just had to get to that time in the future…though staying in the bath at present was pretty good too.

God what she wouldn’t give to just leave the bath house straight for the pub and have Gerd or Stefan or someone shout “Goldilocks” and each member of the squad neck a pint of ale. Then they could make stupid jokes and lift each other up, being generally loutish. It was a pleasant thought.

“Oh it’s you!”

A melodic voice awoke her from her dozing, and she opened her eyes to see Hange stood over her on the edge of the pool, stark naked except for their glasses. Oh lord. You _had_ to be naked to enter the baths, but more than anything it was the extreme upside-down angle she had of their body. Before she could move or even venture a reaction, they had slipped into the bath beside her, their glasses steaming up instantly.

“Petra, was it? You know I heard a rumour that you were training with the _Levi squad_ today. How was it? Did you manage to keep those boys in line? I know they can be kind of a handful.”

Hange’s energy was enough to bowl anyone over. They radiated a kind of constant excitement, which stormed through everyone they spoke to whether that person were on board with it or not. It was like being chained to a runaway train; you simply had no choice but to be pulled along with it, screaming.

Petra was agape, and had barely choked out a single syllable when they continued;

“I guess that must be why you’re here! I’d imagine this place would be a staple for anyone who joined that squad, they’re very intense. Though if it’s Levi that's worrying you, you shouldn’t be too concerned, his bark is way worse than his bite. Unless you’re a titan that is!”

Hange collapsed into loud high-pitched laughter, removing their glasses and wiping the condensation away. Petra continued to be awe-struck, she didn’t even know where to begin.

“I - uh - thanks?” She eventually managed.

“No worries at all my dear! Between you and me, they’ve been a complete mess recently, so it’s no _wonder_ they went looking for some new blood. How are you with cleaning? I suppose you must be pretty good seeing as you’re in the bath house.”

That last point might have been a joke, but Hange said it with absolute sincerity, as though they were genuinely considering it.

“Um, cleaning?”

“Yes! I hear they have a squad cleaning schedule that’s even more intense than their drills. Surely you know that Levi is a neat freak.”

They stared at her unblinking, eagerly awaiting a response. Petra suddenly became aware of how near they were to one another, and she looked back at Hange with the same baffled expression she’d had since they arrived. The clear warm water swirled comfortingly around them both and Petra began to giggle. She had only just come to realise, following the flurry of immediate and overwhelming conversation, that she was very much enjoying Hange’s company.

“I didn’t know that. Is there anything else I should know about their squad?” She quirked an eyebrow, “…maybe some secrets that could be used as leverage?”

Hange cackled, “I wish! Sadly they never tell me anything, it doesn’t matter how many times I ask.”

“Ah, darn it.”

Amid the billowing steam, wet copper hair gently falling past her large amber eyes, and her cheeks, pink with the warm of the bath, Petra was beautiful. She was like a water nymph from an old book. Wouldn’t it be nice to touch the soft cream of her skin…pull her into an embrace…stroke her hair…whisper in her ear…Hange realised they had been staring at her. They blinked, once again removing their glasses and cleaning them.

“Well! I’d better let you get back to your afternoon. But if you’re joining Levi’s squad I’ll see you more often for experiments.”

“Oh, er yeah, right!” Petra was flummoxed again, _what experiments?!_

“If you ever need anything, you can find me in the lab.”

Hange was gone in a splash, leaving Petra slightly reeling. They were a _lot_ , but Petra appreciated that they’d gone out of their way just to say hello to her, and after they’d only vaguely met once before. She found herself hoping that she would would see Hange more often, though she definitely wasn’t going to be a part of whatever ‘experiments’ they were doing with the Levi Squad, seeing as she was sure she wasn’t joining it.

She sighed. She would soak until she was a prune, anything to delay the walk over to the Captain’s office.


	5. Chapter 5

Two more minutes until perfect. Levi lit the final candle on his desk. The sun had set, and the light of the small flames licked across the little office, imbuing the bookcases and rudimentary wooden furniture with a warming orange glow. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes and relaxed into his desk chair; tranquility. Moments like this were few and far between.

The room was (obviously) spotless, and the darkness through the window mingling with the soft candlelight eased him; akin to his small apartment underground. There were even nights he slept right here in his office chair because of it, after all this strange half light was what he’d grown up with.

It was odd to take comfort in remembering that dank, miserable place; a place he was glad to be free of, but for some reason, on evenings such as this, his memories filtered out the rotten. It might have been that once someone was lost forever, everything connected to them was beautified and dire circumstances fell by the wayside.

Besides, it was better to remember them peacefully when he could, seeing as his dreams regularly ravaged him with the nightmarish images of their final monstrous moments, shattering his rose-tinted glasses.

He lifted the lid to the teapot, inhaling the fragrant aroma, nearly done.

It seemed that in his and Petra’s absence, the team had returned to their former anarchy, squabbling and making a general mess of their assignment. Hm. At least that reinforced the necessity of his darting around.

When he’d returned to the barracks and asked how they’d found the afternoon’s new five-person formation, they had all quietly conceded that it was a success, and that they wanted to continue down that route for future training. Eld had actually said that he couldn’t wait to work specifically with Petra again, and rather surprisingly admitted that he’d like to learn techniques from her. Gunther agreed, reflecting that though it was still early days, the new dynamic was a vast improvement, and it was largely down to her. Oruo remained quiet, but nodded along, giving the occasional approving grunt.

He didn’t need their blessing to be confident in his decision, but it was good to know he had it.

Now he just had to convince Erwin.

There was a shaky rap on the door.

“…Captain?”

He almost smirked at her hesitancy.

“Come in.”

Petra shyly took one step into the room, hanging by the wall. She had changed into basic civilian clothes which took him off guard slightly; this was a _professional_ meeting.

He took a slow breath.

He supposed he had given her some time off in the afternoon…maybe he could overlook minor insubordination on this occasion, there were more important things to sort out and he didn’t need to stand on ceremony now, there’d be plenty of time to enforce rules in training.

He lifted the lid off the teapot again and studied the colour of the liquid. Ready. Removing the tea leaves and setting them aside, he slowly poured a cup, aware that she was watching him nervously from the edge of the room.

He stopped, hands on still on the pot and glanced up at her; her concerned brows twitching together was, for a moment, the only movement. Lowering the pot again, he held her gaze momentarily before inclining his head somewhat.

“Take a seat.”

She heeded him, warily stalking to the chair opposite his and sitting. He lifted the teapot once more and indicated to the second cup in question.

“Oh…er thank you sir.” She gave a troubled smile and a short nod.

As he poured the tea he studied her. She was looking down, her hands shifting and picking at the skin around her thumbs, her light breath delicately wavering. She was more tentative than he’d been expecting. Tea should calm her a bit.

He slowly pushed the second teacup to her and lifted his own to his lips in his signature way, his fingers clasping the over the cup’s rim, and noted the small look of surprise which flashed across her face before she quickly returned her gaze downwards, warming her hands on the edges of her tea.

“Petra, how did you find training today?”

He took a sip and she hummed a moment in consideration.

“Difficult, sir. I wasn’t used to drilling so intensely as I’m sure you noticed.”

There was a gentle clinking of china as he returned his cup to its saucer.

“Hm. And how would you improve the formation?”

Her golden-bronze eyes flicked up quickly and questioningly, catching his pale grey ones,

“Sir?”

He blinked plainly, before relaxing further back into his chair and continued;

“Nothing is ever perfect first time. What improvements would you suggest to the formation we tested this afternoon?”

Petra took a moment, her mind turning over his question and her hands now clasping together on her lap as though willing her to think faster.

“Well sir, I suppose…” She returned her gaze to him with some assurance, “It might have been better if you’d placed me on the left hand side, being that I’m left side dominant.”

Interesting. And unexpectedly useful: the potential for both sides of a double strike to be from the soldiers’ dominant side. That would mean no matter who from the squad he paired with her in that rear position, or for any two-scout attack, the accuracy could be somewhat balanced out. It also meant that she’d been poorly taught when it came to sparring; most right-dominant soldiers were used to fighting right-dominant soldiers, so a lefty in theory could take them off guard more easily.

He nodded once, and eyed her, urging her to continue.

“Oh, right. Well, I haven’t worked with Eld and Gunther before, so it’s hard for me to know where in a formation they would be best placed, sir. Though I’m sure you knew that when you…” She cleared her throat, “I had assumed…”

She tailed off, playing with the ends of her sleeves. She looked up at him apologetically as he leaned in to pick up his tea from the desk again.

“Go on.”

“Sorry. It’s just that I had assumed that you wouldn’t require any assistance taking out a target, sir. So it confused me that you asked me to do that with you.”

His smile was so faint that it was likely imperceptible to her…also it was completely hidden by the cup of tea he held in front of it. He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent and warmth of the brew, before taking a long sip. She observed him carefully, completely unsure how he would respond.

“You haven’t touched your tea Ral.”

“Oh - er - ” she stumbled, picking up the cup and weakly holding it to her lips, “Thank you Captain.”

“Sometimes it’s useful to lead by example.” He said, watching her.

“I see sir…so you needed someone of a similar…uh, stature to you to demonstrate that new pincer technique to your squad?”

Levi internally flinched. His lips parted a little. That wasn’t…at all what he meant. Did she really have no idea why she’d been training with them? Then again, he’d never expressly told her and she wasn’t clairvoyant. Probably.

“No.” He replaced his now empty cup onto its saucer rather firmly, “A new contract is being drawn up for you, along with a transfer request to join the Special Operations Squad.”

Petra’s hand jolted, causing tea to splash up, almost spilling over the sides. Her face drained of colour.

“B-but sir I…that’s very flattering…”

“You can read over it tomorrow on your break. Then it’s a case of being surveyed by Erwin on Friday morning before anything is confirmed.”

Now she was completely frozen in place, save her breathing which quickened. Her reaction was proving a lot more unusual than any of the previous offers he’d made to members of his squad. He was used to a pleased, borderline smug smile and the offer of a handshake, which of course he never accepted. Who knew where those disgusting hands had been.

“I’m - um. I mean that’s…wow sir.” She placed her cup back on the desk, fearing she might spill tea everywhere. She couldn’t seem to stop blinking. “It’s just, the squad today - I mean - they seemed very polished. Are you really sure you need another member?”

His eyes widened a touch. Well there was a response he’d _never_ anticipated. He furrowed his brow, his stare boring into the desk in rapid thought.

“Are you saying you would prefer to stay with your current squad?”

She took a sharp intake of breath.

“I…I don’t know sir.”

For a split second they locked eyes.

“You don’t _know_?”

This was mystifying. Didn’t she consider how prestigious this squad was? What an honour it was to join it? That there was a pay rise? He exhaled and went to pour himself another cup of tea. Tch.

What was he supposed to do now? _Convince_ her? With _words_? Shit. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that she wouldn’t _want_ to join the squad, and he certainly wasn’t going to force her, above everything (except maybe cleanliness) he believed in a person’s right to make their own decisions; the decision they’d regret the least. Even if that decision was about to make his situation a whole damn lot harder. If only he could somehow channel Erwin, that tall, brilliant blonde bastard always seemed to talk his way into whatever he needed.

“It’s just all very sudden and unexpected, sir. I don’t know if I’m ready for so much responsibility.”

Did this mean there was a possibility that she’d regret joining his squad? He swallowed hot tea. Think. _Think._ There would be other soldiers that could fit if she didn’t want to join. He’d have to spin something with Erwin to get more time. Fuck…he really didn’t want to have to do that. Plus it was unlikely they would be quite as well suited as Petra instantly was; something had just clicked with her. They might take longer to assimilate. The whole squad was already singing her praises for fuck’s sake, how much respect might they lose for him if she turned down this offer? Replacing the cup once more he looked squarely at her.

“It’s your choice. But consider that if you weren’t ready then the option wouldn’t be available to you.”

The candlelight jumped through her uneasy eyes.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Look over the contract tomorrow on your break. You can leave it in my office in the afternoon with your decision. Dismissed.”

“Captain- ”

He glared at her, and she hurriedly stood and bowed her head, before scurrying out the door.

Fuck. Well that didn’t go as planned. It suddenly felt very hot in the little office. He sighed in frustration, removing his cravat and folding it neatly on the desk. He rested his chin on his hand, eyes staring forward.

Nothing could ever just follow the simplest path.

She _had_ to have picked up on the remarkable function of the squad this afternoon in comparison to her own, it was indisputably superior. Having worked at that elite level it was beyond him that she would ever want to continue in a lesser squad. What was the point in joining the military at all if you didn’t want to improve your rank? And more generally speaking, be as serviceable as you possibly could to humanity?

Perhaps, given a day returning to train with her usual squad, she would feel the difference and be persuaded to advance.

Shit. All he could do was wait and hope she saw sense. His gut was seldom wrong, and he wasn’t willing to disturb Erwin just yet.

********************

Petra practically sprinted down the hallways to get away. Holy hell. It had been a long time since she’d felt so awkward, and only hours ago she’d shared a naked bath with Hange. The Captain had barely changed his expression the whole time she was in his office, yet he was undeniably bothered by her response, like a pond’s smooth surface being momentarily rippled by a moving fish. For someone so stern and unreadable, it was unsettling, and it made her feel a pang of guilt, though she wasn’t entirely sure why.

Had she offended him? Darn it. She’d only gone and pissed off ‘Humanity’s strongest’. That took a particular kind of idiocy, one she hadn’t known she possessed until this very moment.

It was just…even though she’d _known_ that the offer was a possibility, she hadn’t ever really believed it would be made to her. It genuinely felt as though it was impossible following her far from perfect morning trial. And he had given her basically no confirmation that what she was doing in the afternoon was any _good_. Granted, the dispatches were clean but…that was all she really had to go on.

The whole ordeal was completely baffling. And now she found herself outside in the courtyard, with no inkling of where to go at all. This was going to take some time to process alone, then she could maybe ask Hannah and Jules their opinions once she was sure she could explain everything that’d happened without just senselessly babbling at them.

She began wandering aimlessly, hands in her pockets, kicking fallen leaves. Her breath misted out into the darkness, she always liked it when it was cold enough for that.

She wasn’t wrong earlier in thinking that joining this new squad would be too tough for her; surely it would be, if her still stinging muscles were anything to go by. And they weren’t the friendliest bunch.

Though Eld had apologised to her. And Gunther gave her his handkerchief for her bleeding nose. And Oruo…well…

Oh god why was this such a mess. The Captain wouldn’t make her an offer unless he meant it, she was sure of that at least. He didn’t seem the type to piss around.

That was actually the first conversation she’d ever had with Captain Levi beyond him giving her orders and she wasn’t really sure what to think of him anymore. Meeting someone properly who you’d had such a solid picture of in your mind, due to them being, in no uncertain terms, ‘famous’ (though perhaps ‘infamous’ was more accurate to some), was always going to be an upending experience. _‘Never meet your heroes’_ her mother had often told her, wagging her finger and stirring the broth for dinner. Captain Levi wasn’t her personal hero, but he was a beacon of hope for the Scouts as a whole, so if you joined you already had a measure of respect for him. Beacons though, were intangible, being made out of light, not flesh, blood and piercing blue-grey eyes.

At first she wasn’t too surprised by him, he came across as measured and icy; a man of few words, as was common knowledge. In the short while that she’d spent time with him he’d appeared to silently analyse everything, but not shed any light on the deep well of his conclusions. Mysterious, though frightening enough that she was ok not knowing any of his thoughts. Or was she?

That was part of it. He just wasn’t as scary as she’d expected one-on-one. She had been overwhelmingly nervous for the meeting, but now that she thought about it, it was mostly due to her preconceptions. Beyond the ferocity of his gaze, he’d offered her tea. He’d asked her questions about what she _thought,_ and about the way he ran _his own_ squad no less. She hadn’t thought he’d ever be concerned with something as trivial as her opinion on those matters, Clara had certainly never asked it.

It was completely baseless, but she felt like he was actually interested in her answers too. She’d been told that the Captain was course and impolite, and she’d seen him be both in her time, yet that meeting…though awkward as hell, was _neither_.

He’d also given her a choice. Surely he could just order her to accept the position?

Up ahead she saw the faint oscillating glow of the soldiers’ tavern, and heard its rowdy laughter and chatter. It was still too soon to face anyone with this predicament, and it was very likely a few of her squad were there. She turned away and walked slowly towards the edges of the grounds.

A promotion.

Her father would jump for joy if he heard that; she could send more money back each month. Though, the Levi Squad’s assignments were certainly not the safest. They probably came up against the most titans on expeditions. And the most abnormals. She trembled a little. Her family probably wouldn’t take to _that_ news so gladly. She had assisted with killing those giant bastards before, many times; and obviously she would have to do it more in the future, that was her _job_ , but was she willing to throw herself into the flaming heart of the action?

Whichever squad you were assigned to had it’s own system; micro-movements and assumptions you could make about your fellow team-mates that helped to keep you all safe. As part of a new squad she’d have to re-learn all of that, no mean feat.

But…could she truly progress in Squad Clara? Was she coasting at present? Not taking any extra risks just so she could spend time with her friends? And if so…was that a problem?

She stopped in the middle of the path, hand on her forehead. She had a splitting headache, and once again her heart was beating unsteadily. She really hoped you couldn’t get a nosebleed from thinking too much.

A gentle melody distantly rolled through the air, dragging her from her pit of tumultuous self pity and her legs began subconsciously walking in the direction of the sound. The low soft booming of a double bass. A mellow drumbeat. The faint chiming of a guitar, and as she approached, lyrics sung in a delicate, tuneful tenor voice:

_You left me out in the cold_

_Folded over in my winter coat_

_When I looked in your eyes_

_Full of ideas broad as the skies_

_I took myself to the Doctors_

_They said nothing was wrong_

_And I said “for you I’m a man made of wax”_

_And you said “My dear, I’ve known all along”_

_How can I be more plain_

_As I fall asleep on my lips just your name_

_Just your name…_

It was coming from the old mill building; through the darkness she could just about make out its shabby exterior. There was a dim light shining beneath the bottom of the old wooden door, but all the windows were boarded up. She ran around the edges, trying to find a single window to see in through…nothing.

Hmph. She kicked up a pile of leaves and spotted something tumble along the ground; a scrunched up piece of paper…no…a flyer.

The Scout’s Band. Of course, tonight was their first practice.

She’d never seriously considered going when Hannah gave her a flyer the previous morning, but now, on the other side of the wall to their playing, she felt a surge of excitement; she hadn’t played music with other people since she left home to join the cadets.

And the band…they actually sounded…good? That was a surprise for sure. Who was playing? If only there was even one uncovered window.

Back home she had no siblings, and with her parents working around the clock as her only close family, she spent a lot of time alone. There was the imaginary friend phase, the baking phase and finally the music phase; one that stuck. Her parents had taken her out to the winter market that year and they came across a young teenage girl playing a guitar in the town centre. The girl's clothes were tattered and worn, it was clear she was only singing for money, but the way she’d played, so beautiful and evocative, young Petra was captivated.

On her birthday not two weeks later her father presented her with a small, battered old guitar and she’d burst into floods of tears. She took it with her everywhere she went and spent every spare second playing, much to her parent’s initial chagrin. It didn’t take long though for her to start getting competent, and soon she was in the schoolyard, surrounded by her classmates and playing songs for them while they sang.

Hannah often teased her for it - the guitar was stationed in the corner of their dorm room, and was apparently _“treated with more respect than any of the residents!”._ Petra smiled to herself; she knew that despite the ribbing, the pair of them loved it when she played for them on a lazy evening.

She leant by the door of the mill, sinking to the floor, and listened to the band members chat and improvise a little together. They all sounded borderline fanatical about what they were doing; the big bunch of nerds. Part of her really wanted to knock on the door and be a nerd too. Maybe one day she would.

She swaddled herself in her thin coat and stayed maybe twenty minutes enjoying listening to the chatter and music before picking herself back up. It had been a welcome distraction from her dilemma, and her headache had mostly subsided. She trundled off into the evening, towards the pub.

********************

“Hey, you coming?” Eld asked, pulling on his tan jacket and knocking on Gunther’s door.

There was a pause.

“No go ahead. Might see you there later.” Came the reply.

“Oh, cool.” Eld said, barely concealing his disappointment.

That meant just him and Oruo. Great. He couldn’t wait. Hopefully Anna’s squad would be at the tavern already and he could join them; all he had to do was dilute Oruo a bit with other, less cavalier folks.

It hadn’t slipped Eld’s notice that Gunther had been acting strangely since they’d returned from training. He was also totally distracted during their second trip down the ODM run with just the three of them, more so than usual even; Eld actually chalked him up to be the squad's biggest problem of the late afternoon. He was hesitant to write that up in the report however, as it was far more usual for Oruo to be the main issue, and he supposed that today had been a bit abnormal for everyone.

After they’d reviewed the trial today with the Captain - where Gunther spoke _more_ than he ever had before - Eld noticed that he’d immediately rushed off to his room, flustered. Was it possible that Gunther had a crush on Petra? Why else would he compliment her to the Captain like that? It was so completely unlike him.

In addition Oruo had had shockingly _little_ to say at the meeting, and that guy usually loved the sound of his own voice.

The pair of them trudged towards the tavern in thorny silence, which he hoped wasn’t an omen of the evening ahead. No, he wouldn’t let it be;

“Did you think Gunther was acting strange today?”

“Hm?” Oruo grunted, “Didn’t really notice.”

“What seriously? The guy spoke for nearly a full thirty seconds without stopping. That’s a _definite_ record for him.”

“Yeah…I guess.”

“Oruo - are _you_ ok? You’re weirdly quiet today man. It’s like you two have swapped or something.”

Eld’s concern seemed to light a defensive fire in the previously subdued Oruo, who immediately got his back up;

“What? No - I - when you’re carrying the _whole team_ , as I was forced to do this afternoon, sometimes you get a little tired. _You_ wouldn’t know anything about that though.”

“Oh _that’s_ what it was, of _course!_ And there I was worried you’d just bit your massive tongue again and it hurt too much to talk.”

Oruo scoffed, “Well maybe you should follow my lead and shut the fuck up, _Eld_.”

Eld snorted, and put his hands in his pockets. God it really wasn’t even worth trying was it. The lights of the pub burned up ahead. Not much further now at least. They paced a bit further until his curiosity got the better of him;

“I think he _likes_ Petra.” He remarked plainly.

Oruo momentarily stopped in his tracks, “Gunther?”

“Yeah. I know you’re pretending to be above it or whatever, but he’s been really on edge since training this afternoon. No idea what else would rattle him like that - plus we’ve basically been with him the whole time. I mean, come _on_ , he was _praising_ her to the Captain…I’ve only ever heard him talk that animatedly once before and it was about that weird goblin book he was into.”

“Pfft.” Oruo scratched the back of his head, muttering, “If Petra does join the squad it’s not like he’d have a chance with her.”

_That_ piqued Eld’s interest; “What makes you say that? Find out a bit about her type back in cadets did you?”

“Hmph. Like I’d tell you.”

“You’re a real fountain of knowledge, you know that Oruo?”

They pushed into the tavern and Oruo immediately disappeared among the disorderly. Classic. He’d probably find him later on playing darts with some Garrison troops.

Eld looked around, but couldn’t see anyone he was friendly with. What a letdown. He headed to the bar. Maybe he could play chess by himself in a corner…it wouldn’t be the first time.  
  
“Ale please.”

The bartender nodded and busied himself.

“Eld?”

Anna had appeared next to him out of nowhere. She was as pretty as he’d remembered, her mousy locks tied in messy bun, a few loose strands grazing her bright almond-shaped brown eyes. Eld cracked a wide smile;

“Anna!”

She smiled back, raising her beer to cheers him. As if on cue, the bartender slid the tankard over to him and they lifted their drinks.

“Cheers!” He beamed.

“Yeah, cheers.” She motioned with her head towards a small booth by the wall, “Why don’t you come join us?”

This was what he had been waiting for; some time to fully chill out. It felt like with their current schedule (mostly due to Squad Levi’s shortcomings) moments to properly relax were few and far between.

Anna’s squad did not disappoint. They joked and swapped stories about various encounters with the Military Police and cadets, all the while the beer flowed as though limitless.

Patrik shared a priceless and (Eld decided) most-likely fictional story in which Commander Erwin, having mistakenly eaten some ‘fun’ mushroom stew Hange had cooked up to _“broaden their creative and scientific thinking”_ , demanded to be planted into the ground as a tree, stating that his skin had turned to bark and he ought to be treated accordingly.

He quietly lamented. Why couldn’t his squad be like this? It would take the burden off of the sheer intensity of their job. He figured it would actually _improve_ their field performance. Thank god he had other friends in the regiment to have a laugh with at least on occasion.

“Another round?” He asked, moving to stand up, and the table cheered in affirmation.

As he pushed through the crowd he spotted a familiar shade of copper hair by the door. He caught Petra’s eye and smiled. She faintly smiled back, though she appeared to have withdrawn into herself completely. Right, she’d had her meeting with the Captain. All of a sudden he felt a pang of concern.

“Hey! Petra!” He waved her over, “How’s it going?”

She approached him in a kind of preoccupied haze.

“Eld, Hi. Not too bad I guess…though I think I need a drink.” Her eyes were darting about distractedly.

He chuckled and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “You and me both.”

Petra appeared to relax a little as they wandered through the tipsy soldiers to the bar.

“Six pints.” Eld asked the bartender, who gave him a knowing smile and pulled out a tray.

“Afternoon that rough, huh?” She smirked.

Eld laughed again, “Well, _you_ know what it’s like training as one of Squad Levi. There are days when even six won’t cut it.” He gestured towards the booth where he’d been sat, “That’s Squad Anna, you’re welcome to join us too if you’re at a loose end.”

“Oh, thanks.” She quickly scanned the other visible tables, frowning, “If that’s ok with them…that…might be fun.”

The tray of drinks appeared between them and Eld handed the bartender the remainder of his cash. He scowled. Never mind, pay day would come around soon enough.

“Go on,” he gestured to a tankard, “One’s for you, obviously.”

Petra looked like she might cry. “Thank you.”

The tankard looked absolutely huge in her small hand, he briefly wondered how she could support the weight of it.

“It’s the least I can do for a new squad mate.”

She blanched.

“Oh…right.” She mumbled, moving the tankard to her lips.

“Whoah there!” Eld interjected, when she didn’t stop drinking for a full ten seconds. He put a hand on her tankard and lightly pushed it down from her mouth, revealing her large, worried eyes, “Is everything alright? Did the Captain not offer you the position?”

“No, he did.” She chewed her lip, “I’m just not sure I want to take it.”

Eld was so caught off guard he nearly knocked over one of the many pints of ale. He regarded her quizzically for a second.

“Really? That’s - ” He gazed at his feet, bothered, his brows knitted together-

“Oi Eld! What’s taking so long?”

Patrik had appeared by them; he was wobbling a tad, grasping Eld’s shoulder, a drunken glow flushing his round cheeks.

“Oh yeah - uh - sorry man. Here, you take the tray over. I’m gonna chat to Petra here for a bit if that’s cool.”

“No problem big E, see ya.” Patrik stumbled off, swaying about with the tray in a way that looked truly dangerous and it was a wonder that all the drinks made it to the table in tact.

Petra chortled, “Big E?”She looked at him with mock question, “I seriously hope the E stands for Eld.”

“Actually it stands for Egg-roll, after I ate forty of them at an eating contest.”

Petra snorted and beer came jetting through her nose, “For real?!”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “No, no it stands for Eld.”

She looked sunnily incredulous, and took the old and bloody handkerchief from her pocket, frowning at it a moment. Eld sighed, and offered up his, which she apologetically accepted and wiped her face.

She was abashed, “Sorry, that was gross.”

"You know, you should really get a new one of those.”

She smiled sheepishly “Definitely…uh…didn’t you wanna go and sit with your friends over there?”

He shrugged, a serious note to his tone, “I’d rather ask you why you aren’t sure about the squad.”

Petra’s face fell, “I’m just not really sure I’m ready is all. I feel absolutely wrecked after today…and I didn’t even finish the afternoon runs with you.”

“Did you not _see_ the looks on the guys’ faces earlier? You’re ready. Just gotta build up a bit of strength and stamina, but that’ll happen naturally after a couple of weeks training with us. I’d give you a month to be level with us on circuits - that’s nothing.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“Fuck nice. What do I have to gain by being nice?” He crossed his arms, “It’s just true. Look, I wasn’t convinced myself when you were drilling with us in the morning, but you made the rest of us look like total jackasses on the run this afternoon, _that’s_ where it counts Petra.”

She took in a shaky breath, and gulped down more beer. Eld eyed her apprehensively;

“I get it. It’s gotta be hard to train with a new squad, but I guess you have to ask yourself why you really joined the Scouts in the first place. I thought that anyone who did liked to take the odd risk.” He raised an eyebrow.

Petra froze. Something he’d said had struck a chord. That was good, she was the first hope of harmony his squad had. Then there was the bonus that she was actually at the pub, they were getting along well and she had _literally laughed at one of his dumb jokes._

“…Did you really eat forty egg rolls in one sitting?” She asked quietly, afraid of the potential stupidity of the question.

He cracked a wide grin, “Sadly, no…I only managed twelve.”

“Twelve?…cool.” She smiled somewhat, and downed her drink.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thursday**

Petra ‘awoke’ early before the bell. She had no idea of the time, but it was just about light out and Hannah and Julia were still sleeping (mostly) soundlessly.

She hadn’t really slept at all. The night had brought wavering dreams which slipped from her with the dawn, leaving behind an array of intense colours and a feeling of unbelievable unease. Her head began to pound again forcefully as she sat up fully and clambered down to the floor, finding the day’s outfit as quietly as she could.

_“But I guess you have to ask yourself why you really joined the Scouts in the first place.”_

The words tortured her. From the moment the sentence left Eld’s lips in the tavern, it’d snaked its way around her brain, squeezing it in a choke-hold, and she was certain no amount of drinking water or cold showering could alleviate the subsequent headache.

She knew the answer to the question of course, but the implication of it terrified her. On top of that, once she’d returned to the dorm room, Hannah and Jules weren’t there to unpack it with her. They hadn’t been at the pub either, where she expected they would have gone after training. She had assumed they’d just somehow missed each other, or maybe they were out looking for her…but something didn’t feel quite right.

When she was ready she made her way to the Scouts general office to pick up the contract to review. She was going early seeing as she only had until the afternoon to deal with it, and it was better she sat with it as long as she could.

She clasped it firmly in her hand; it seemed simple enough; a few papers rolled up and tied with string, but what it symbolised was something altogether a lot more complex. Who’d have thought a few flimsy pieces of paper might have kept her up at night, when her job title was essentially _‘murderer of human-eating giants’_.

Irritable, she lumbered to the mess hall. At least today she was up early enough to get some coffee and actually have a sit down while she ate. The hall was sparse; it must have been earlier than she thought. She collected a cup of coffee along with an orange and a bread roll, and sat wearily at a table by herself.

As she ate, her eyes flicked continuously to the rolled up pages, willing the string to untie itself, so she didn’t have to make the conscious decision to read it. If _she_ decided, it was somehow her fault if she were unhappy with the consequences, but if it were to just unfurl by itself then she would just _happen_ to read it and…god this was stupid. She already knew in her gut what to do.

She was just delaying the inevitable.

Taking a final mouthful of coffee, she tugged at the string and unrolled the documents. She scanned them, reading over each page twice. It was unbelievably boring, save the section which mentioned a pay rise, that bit she supposed was ok. The gist was that the Levi Squad worked longer hours, had more responsibilities (specific to her was that she’d be on medical duty for the squad if the medical cart was nowhere around) and there was a probability of occasional paperwork, something which she didn’t have to do at present. But most of it she knew already.

She re-rolled it with a scowl and tied the string back up, indignantly pressing an orange segment into her mouth. She wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected to feel after reading it but it certainly hadn’t been an enlightening experience. She supposed she just wanted it to somehow reaffirm what her gut was telling her. But how could a piece of paper do that…

“Morning short-stuff!” Hannah chirped, coming to sit opposite her, “You’re up early!”

Jules wasn’t far behind, she was sleepily rubbing her eyes. She seemed detached, and barely mumbled a good-morning as she placed her breakfast tray on the table.

“Morning guys.” Petra muttered with a tired smile, “It was kinda weird not seeing you both last night.”

Hannah’s hand moved to the back of her neck restlessly, “Aw yeah…er sorry, Clara took the squad to the tea house after training and then we all stayed in town for dinner. We wanted to leave you a note, but Clara said we didn’t have time to return to the barracks…”

“Oh.” Petra looked crestfallen, “Did you have fun?”

“I mean, it was really nice…but we missed you baby girl.” She smiled remorsefully, "It’s just not the same when it’s not the three of us.”

Julia stormily put down her coffee cup, which made a sharp clattering sound. Hannah’s eyes were briefly sullen, before she mopped up Jules’s spilled coffee with a napkin.

“Jules is everything ok?” Petra asked delicately. It had been a long while since she’d seen her friend so crabby. Hannah answered for her however;

“She’s fine. Just another late night is all. We’re gonna have to take it a bit easier the next few evenings I reckon!”

Laughing, Hannah put her arm around the very despondent Julia. Petra knew that laugh. It wasn’t real; it was an affectation she sometimes put on to try and make everything seem fine.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Petra pushed, trying to catch the brunette’s eyes.

“Petra, what’s this?” Hannah questioned, having picked up the roll of documents and squinting at it; clearly trying to change the subject.

“That’s - nothing.” Petra mumbled, grabbing it from Hannah’s hand.

The table fell into a strange silence. Sheesh. It was maybe the most awkward it had ever been between the three of them. The squad had gone on a night out, without her. That kinda sucked. They hardly ever went into town as a full squad; usually only after expeditions. What was the occasion for it? Were they waiting until she was gone for some reason?

Stop being so darn _paranoid_. Of course that wasn’t it.

It was petty, but that small revelation made her not want to tell them about the offer to join the Levi Squad. The silence dragged on and she began bitterly ripping up her discarded bits of orange peel.

This was silly. She shouldn’t be punishing her friends because Clara decided to take the squad out for a social. It wasn’t their fault after all. It was Clara’s. And Clara decided to take the squad out _knowing_ Petra wouldn’t be able to go.

Hannah cleared her throat, “How was the rest of the afternoon training with the Levi Squad in the end? As brutal as the morning?”

“No, actually.” She eyed her friends for a moment, her brows tying together, “The Captain offered me a spot on his squad.”

The pair of them stopped still, but what struck her was that they didn’t seem that surprised by her revelation, which was weird, because only yesterday neither of them even knew _who_ she was training with. Had Hange maybe said something to someone after their conversation at the bathhouse?

Julia was simply staring straight at her, and Hannah feebly smiled;

“Congratulations.” The blonde mustered, “That’s…great. Do you think’ll you’ll take it?”

Petra stalled a moment. Her insides were swirling all around and she felt sick, as though her core temperature was suddenly and forcefully fluctuating of it’s own accord;

“…Yes.” She choked out.

A brief stunned silence followed.

“Are you sure that’s the right thing to do?” Hannah prodded, “You should have seen yourself yesterday lunchtime. I’ve never seen you so drained and mad at a group of people.”

“I - that’s true. Yesterday was hellish. Training with them in the morning was just short of a living nightmare but…” She rubbed her hands down her face, exhaling, “The afternoon was…good. Hard, really hard work, but I’ve never been down the run so fast before, or taken out so many dummy titans in one go.”

“You’d split the three of us up just so you can go a bit faster down the run?” Hannah’s voice was spiked with hurt.

Julia abruptly stood, snorting and left at speed with her tray. They both quietly watched her go.

Hannah continued, “Petra, please think about this. You won’t be _happy_ there.”

Petra couldn’t keep the torment from her large eyes, but her tone was resolute, “We should go. Let’s not be late for our last day training together.”

Hannah defiantly stuttered, but Petra was already leaving.

********************

Gunther awoke feeling completely refreshed. He always slept well, but he had slept remarkably well last night, must be something to do with having such an enjoyable evening.

Everything felt easier today. He shaved in record time without nicking himself, washed and dressed and was in the common room before anyone else. He would try and work this coffee maker, couldn’t be too hard.

He pulled apart the metal contraption, which had several internal compartments, none of which he knew the use of. He supposed that coffee went in the bottom section and the water over it. Then heated. Hmm. That didn’t look right. This was harder than he’d initially thought.

After no less than four failed attempts and an unbelievable amount of coffee grounds spillage, he was cleaning up. Better to just get coffee from the mess hall. No matter, nothing could bring him down today.

Wiping away the final grounds, he rinsed the cloth in the sink, becoming aware of a presence in the room.

“Hey. Manage to get that thing working?”

Eld. He had to give it to the guy, he tried to make coffee with the odd contraption every morning without fail, though his efforts were still only marginally better than Gunther’s own shocking attempt.

“Nah.” He answered, heading for the door, “Gonna get some from the mess hall.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“If you want.”

Gunther was reeling a little, he didn’t feel at _all_ like himself, but in the best possible way. Though he could clearly see reality around him, he was completely trapped replaying the events of the previous evening: the opening of the note in his room, reading it over and over, checking it was real;

_Meet me at the town fountain at eight. J_

His purposeful walk over, catching James’s eye for the first time of many that evening, the way their hands had brushed as they walked by the stream. Was it just him, or was it really sunny today? His chest puffed up, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so happy.

It seemed Eld had been trying to get his attention for a while, and he vaguely came to, just about re-hearing the blonde man’s last sentence;

“Didn’t catch you at the tavern - did you decide to stay in? …Gunther?”

“Mm.” He nodded. The squad didn’t need to know about his evening. Though he reasoned that if Petra joined she might find out, since she gave him the note in the first place. That was ok, he owed her.

“Fair. Uh - how are you feeling about _Petra_ maybe joining the squad?” Eld asked.

Gunther flinched slightly on hearing her name after he’d just been thinking it. Eld smirked to himself.

“Good. She’d a strong candidate.” He replied flatly, before once again getting lost in the blue of James’s eyes as they blinked in his mind. He was so charming, little freckles peppered over his-

“Gunther!” Eld was incredulous, “Do you even _want_ coffee?”

Oh right, they were at the counter already. He hadn’t even noticed them enter the mess hall.

“Sure, black please.”

Eld shook his head in disbelief as went to collect two cups and returned, shoving one towards Gunther, “Jeez man. I know you’ve been a bit out of it lately but _this_ is on a whole new level. Maybe Petra shouldn’t join the squad if it’s gonna make you this dopey.”

“Huh?” Gunther downed his coffee in one and looked back at him. He had no idea what Eld was prattling on about. “Let’s get to the gym.” He said mindlessly, giving Eld back his empty cup and walking away, leaving the astonished blonde agape.

********************

Clara’s squad were gathering outside their stables. Today they would be taking out dummies on horseback from one of the fields as a group. It was a particularly difficult task, as there weren’t a lot of things to hook onto _other_ than the titan itself, which was always unbelievably dangerous and was only ever taken as a last resort on expeditions if escape on horseback was impossible.

“Fetch your saddles and meet me at the entrance to the big field.” Clara instructed, watching as her squad dispersed, “Oh no, no, no - not you Petra.”

Petra stopped and faced her Squad leader. She was on tenterhooks and still feeling bruised from learning of her squad’s trip out without her. She blinked as Clara pushed a shovel towards her forcefully,

“You’re mucking out the stables today Ral.”

Petra’s heart sank and she reluctantly took the shovel, “Just me, sir?”

“Just you. Didn’t think I’d forget your punishment now, did you?”

Petra couldn’t bring herself to look at Clara, she swallowed, “No, sir.”

“Once you’re done here - you can take fifteen minutes for lunch - then you’re pot washing in the kitchen until the evening.”

“B-but sir!”

“Can it Ral, don’t make this worse for yourself.” With that, Clara stalked off to fetch her own saddle.

The _whole day_. The whole day on chores, alone. Petra was frozen and her eyes pricked with tears, but she wouldn’t cry. It was worse than she was expecting, but she had to respect whatever punishment was doled out and trust it fit the crime. Though she couldn’t help but slightly indulge in the notion of the unfairness of it all; usually minor lateness only earned you fifty push-ups.

Would Clara have put her on chores for the whole day if she knew it was possibly Petra’s last day on her squad? It seemed a little harsh if she knew. Then again it might be the last day Clara had the _authority_ to punish her; she just hadn’t thought Clara to be so begrudging and cruel.

Even still, they were barely five minutes late the other morning. And she didn’t look _that_ scruffy did she? Five minutes lateness for a whole day of chores. Clara must’ve been really pissed about it. It could have been to do with the fact they were late on a day the Captain had been surveying them…that might’ve made Clara look like a bad squad leader. She gulped. A combination of guilt and annoyance swashed around her as she began walking into the now empty stables.

She was stayed by the sound of a horse’s hooves and the slight thump of someone dismounting.

“Hey.” Jules said softly. She calmed her mare with a nuzzle pat before walking slowly towards Petra.

“Hay.” Petra managed cheerlessly, tipping her shovel and allowing some straw to fall from it.

Julia looked less than amused.

Petra sighed, “Did you hear, it _is_ mucking out stables for me.”

Jules stopped a couple of metres away, her face drawn, “I’m sorry. I wanted to say well done for the promotion, you really deserve it.” She spoke quietly, but with candour.

Petra’s breath caught. Hearing her friend acknowledge her decision somehow made said decision extraordinarily real.

“Hah…thank you. Though I still have to pass Commander Erwin’s assessment, which is apparently happening tomorrow morning.” She paused, could her nerves really handle all this? She could muck out the stables quickly then have a lie down in the fresh hay for a while. Clara would never know.

“You know you won’t have a problem doing that Petra.” Julia was eerily still, and she seemed edgy as she continued;

“Listen, If you want to leave our squad, I trust your decision and back you.” She exhaled, and moved to lean on the wall of the stable;

“Clara kept making strange comments to me and Hannah last night…things like, _“You know Petra is vital to this squad’s survival”_ and even at one point _“it would be a shame if the three of you were to be split up for any reason.”_ It didn’t take much to put two and two together since we knew where you were all day. Hannah spent most of last night trying to get me to think up ways to get you to stay, but it’s _your_ decision. It really ticked me off that she didn’t even want to listen to you. Please just tell me you’re leaving for the right reasons.”

A lump was forming in Petra’s throat. Oh. She suddenly remembered how she and Oruo had drifted apart when _he_ joined the Special Ops Squad; how they’d barely spoken in months. Her lip quivered a little.

“I ran into Eld yesterday in the pub - he’s in the Levi Squad. He reminded me why I joined the Survey Corps in the first place.”

She trailed the shovel across the floor, mindlessly pushing straw about;

“I pledged to help free everyone from the titans, give my life if it comes to it…if there’s a chance for a better future. I have to be as faithful as I can to that cause - as helpful as I can to humanity, or what was the point of all this? That’s when I realised that I'd only be staying in Squad Clara for selfish reasons…once I figured that out I…”

She glanced towards her friend, whose eyes were watery and wide. Jules ran towards her and dragged her into a tight, tearful embrace;

“I’m gonna miss you so much dude.”

“Me too.” Petra sniffed, squeezing her eyes shut.

Jules gently let go of her, smirking, “At least now I won’t get punished for _your_ lateness.”

“I dunno about that…” Petra uttered, wiping away a single tear, “Where are you meant to be right now?”

“Oh fuck!”

Petra guffawed as she watched her friend sprint towards her horse and vault onto it.

“See ya round Ral!”

Petra waved as Jules rode flat out into the distance, dark curly locks bouncing wildly about her. She couldn’t suppress the dumb smile that graced her lips as she started shovelling.

********************

Levi had been observing again in the morning, though with each passing soldier his patience waned. Anything that wasn’t one hundred percent perfect wasn’t good enough. Even in areas where the soldiers were completely surpassing Petra, sparring for example, he couldn’t stop himself finding a million other tiny reasons why they were inadequate. Shoes tied in a weird way. Body odour. An insufferable laugh. Even he knew he was being ridiculous.

But none of them had the spark.

 _And_ he’d made them all stay well into their lunch break because he was trying to fit in the extra two squad observations today that he’d missed out the day before. He barely nodded to the squad leader before dismissing himself.

As he paced to his office, he unfurled the small list of names he’d made for potential replacements and studied it impatiently, willing a name to jump out at him as an obvious pick. Tch, it was beginning to feel like a waste of his time. He slammed the door to his office open and blazed through, glowering.

There, on the desk - the rolled up contract.

He stopped, eyeing it suspiciously for a moment, as though it were some kind of venomous snake, lying still in deathly wait for him. He huffed and clenched his jaw, striding over to it, plucking it sharply from the desk and unfurling it in one smooth motion.

Hastily he threw the first few pages aside, there was only one section he really needed to see. His eyes darted straight to the bottom of the page, and there, curling in black ink, was Petra’s signature. Thank fuck, she’d seen some sense.

He struck a match and relished the burning of his list of replacements in an instant, waving the tail end of it to extinguish the flame, smoke circling victoriously to the ceiling. As he threw the ashen stub in the bin, he noticed another small note on his desk;

_Captain,_

_I plan to devote myself to your squad in order to further the Scout’s cause to the best of my ability. I will not let you down._

_Petra Ral_

His pent up energy abandoned him in a gruff sigh and he leant on the desk, eyes closed.

Good. Good. This was good. He wished she had just initially agreed in their meeting yesterday and saved him a headache, but better late than never. All they had to do now was complete the observation with Erwin, which he could confirm for tomorrow morning, then this whole pain in the ass would be over and done with before the weekend.

********************

“Check-mate.” Eld said to no-one, batting away the white king with a black pawn, “Looks like _I_ win again.”

The king landed on the floor with an extended rattling that somehow reinforced the emptiness of the room. He poured another small glass of red wine and sighed, getting up to put one of the remaining few logs in the dwindling fire.

“Hey - Eld?”

Oruo was stood in the corner of the room, scratching the back of his head. He looked nothing short of haggard.

“What’s up Oruo?” Eld exhaled tiredly.

“The ceiling, clouds… _some_ birds…” Oruo coughed, “Can I join you?”

Eld nearly dropped the log he was holding, “Uh - sure.”

Whoah what? This week was getting more peculiar by the minute. And did Oruo just make… _a joke?_ Eld looked suspiciously at the wine. He swore he’d only had one glass, but it was quite fancy (having been gifted to the squad a while back from some fancy noble), maybe it had gone off. Did wine go off?

He placed the log in the fire and it grumbled hungrily.

“Chess?”

Oruo shook his head, “Don’t know the rules. I brought these though…” He held out an old pack of cards, “Blackjack?”

Eld grinned, “Sure.” He’d take what he could get.

He went to the cupboard, brought out a second glass, and poured some wine for Oruo, who was shuffling the deck, and had put a couple of coins for betting on the table. Oruo dealt and they each checked their hands. Eld had a four and a five. Nice.

“You first Jinn.”

“Hit me.”

Jack of hearts.

“Ooh…” Eld took a sip of his wine, eyeing Oruo’s face down cards. Oruo stuck with them. Eld had nineteen, so hitting again was risky. But if he lost to Oruo immediately he’d never live it down. He comically stroked his beard and raised a brow.

“Hit me.”

Oruo looked deadly serious, “Are you sure you want to do that?”

Eld narrowed his eyes, “Hit me.”

Oruo slowly moved the top card over to Eld. Ace of spades.

“Heck _yes_! Twenty. Alright show me your cards.”

Oruo stalled, before revealing his hand. He had eighteen. He pouted and grumbled something about Eld having some beginner’s luck, to which Eld reminded him that you had to be a _beginner_ at the game to have beginner’s luck. They played several more games, the wins fairly evenly spread between them, though Eld was pulling ahead slightly. He’d also had to rather embarrassingly borrow a couple of coins off of Oruo for the very basic bets they were placing, having spent the remainder of his cash buying rounds the previous evening.

Eld was surprised; he was having a nice time, with _Oruo_ of all people.

He poured out the final dregs of the bottle of wine. Man, they’d really finished the whole thing. He hoped the Captain and Gunther wouldn’t mind, though he’d never actually seen the Captain drink anything that wasn’t plain old water or some elaborately named tea.

“Uh…” Oruo began.

“Problem? Desperate to give me more of your money, that it?”

All of the lines seemed to deepen in Oruo’s face, “When Petra joins the squad…” he mumbled, shuffling the deck once more, “Do you think Gunther will be too distracted? Will he…” he swallowed, “…put the rest of us in danger?”

Eld sat up in his chair. It was an odd question; certainly not something he imagined _Oruo_ would be concerned about. Oruo, who was famously only interested in his own performance.

“He’s an elite scout, so I’d hope not.” Eld mused, “He has been a little ‘head in the clouds’ this week but…I mean he’s only just met her. Not like he’s in love with her or anything.”

“Yeah…” Oruo muttered almost inaudibly. He dealt two more hands face down.

Eld checked his hand and scratched his chin, “I guess we’ll only know after a couple of weeks training with her. Gunther’s a good soldier though, I’m sure he’ll figure it out. Out there its life or death, he _knows_ that’s bigger than some cute chick.”

“Ah, so _you_ think she’s cute? Your move.”

“Well…sure. She’s not my type though. Hit me.” Collecting the new card he threw down his hand instantly. “Rats. I bust.”

“Hah! Fuck you Eld - you suck.” Oruo stood up, flipping a coin and catching it in his hand before pocketing it.

“I’m still winning you blockhead.”

“Whatever. We’re outta wine anyway, without that I’m not sure how much I’d enjoy your company. I’m turning in.” Oruo moved towards the door, stopping just before exiting, “Night.”

“Er yeah - night.”

Eld sat silently, staring at the remains of their unexpected evening together. Huh.

********************

It was around nine in the evening and Petra was still washing pots. Her hands were red from the cold water; not long now. She had been left alone to finish up for the night…not that she minded, she’d heard enough idle babbling from the other kitchen workers that evening, and was basking in the relative quiet, soothed by the simple sounds of the splattering water as she scrubbed.

She lifted the final pot onto the side, unplugging the sink, which gurgled fervidly, as though it was as relieved to be done for the day as she was. Drying her raw hands she left the kitchen and yawned loudly. She walked through the mess hall, dark with the evening’s emptiness and gloom, and almost jumped out of her skin to see Captain Levi sat by a single candle, alone with a pot of tea.

He looked up at her coolly; the room was huge, but with his presence and the lighting the way it was, it was like he was sat under a spotlight.

“It seems your previous squad leader wasn’t too happy about your decision. One _might_ think she’d make you work such a long day to keep you off your game tomorrow.”

She mindlessly undid the cleaning apron she was wearing over her uniform and folded it, her eyes glued to him; curiously mesmerised.

He continued, “But I’d wager that it’d take more than a few long days and some disgusting kitchenware to keep a member of my squad from performing at their best, wouldn’t you?”

It was amazing how still he could be. She walked slowly towards him, drawn towards the flickering light.

“Yes, Captain.” She sat opposite him at the long table, placing the folded apron on her lap. The dark wood and the candlelight reminded her of being in his office yesterday, but this time she wasn’t nervous. She wouldn’t bite her lip, or pick at her hands. She was determined to hold his steely gaze. If her life was being overturned for this, she was going to face it head on. There was nothing to do now but be wholly committed to her decision and see it through as far as she could.

He poured a second cup of tea and pushed it towards her.

“If you don’t mind my asking, sir, how would Clara know about this? - The offer to join your squad I mean.” She inhaled the scent of the tea. Chamomile. A smile played at the edges of her lips. This was certainly fancier than the basic scouts tea-leaf rations; she wondered if it was from his personal supply. Also, chamomile tea was meant to help with sleep…something he surely knew.

He sipped his tea, holding his cup in that strange way she’d noticed in his office, “Who knows. People talk. My guess would be some blathering moron from the office. They wouldn’t know discretion if it were their damn mother’s name.”

Petra snort-laughed and covered her mouth. The Captain merely looked at her, before taking another sip.

She pushed her hair behind her ear and returned her eyes to his, “Thank you, sir. For the tea.”

He remained stock-still, and she wondered if he even needed to blink. She studied his expression in the dim light. She noticed the shadows under his light grey eyes, the slight crease of his brow, his fine chin. Yet, he was so youthful.

It might have just been exhaustion following her long day, but…was he kind of…beautiful?

She blinked a couple of times. That was a wildly inappropriate path to start going down. _Get it together Ral._ Honestly.

“Tomorrow we’ll be on the first ODM run, then we’re moving to the static training zone. The formation will be slightly re-jigged to function with just the four of you - I need to stay on the periphery. You should pay particular attention to where you can assist, and don’t get distracted. That should be enough to impress old ‘eyebrows’.”

She glanced questioningly; “Eyebrows? Oh…do you mean the Commander?!” She had to bite her lip to stop from giggling again. She forced hot tea into her mouth. _Get it together for god’s sake._ She absolutely needed to go to bed as soon as possible. Something had come over her and she just couldn’t trust her own thoughts at present, they were a total liability.

Her drained cup clacked back onto the saucer and she stood and saluted to him, in an almost cheesy, over-eager way; “Good evening, Captain. With your permission, sir, I’d like to turn in for the night.”

There was a pause, and then, “Knock yourself out.”

For the entire walk back to her dorm her mind raced, it seemed the chamomile had done nothing to quiet her thinking. It had to be fatigue, that was it. Definitely fatigue drawing her thoughts into eccentric circles. Still, the Captain was managing to constantly take her by surprise. In every interaction they’d had, no matter how much she’d been able to mentally prepare for it, she was always left on the back foot, scrambling to make sense of everything.

It was most likely that she just needed to get used to him. She’d spent a while in Clara’s squad and was accustomed to Clara’s leadership. If she passed tomorrow, this new elite squad would have its own flavour and direction; which would obviously take some time to digest, and the Captain’s methods would be a big part of that. She had to keep reminding herself of that; it had barely been a full day since she'd spoken to Eld in the pub, and made the concrete decision to say yes to the offer.

Was it possible that his showing up so late like this was his unusual method of encouragement?

And what he’d said about Clara…would Clara really put her on a full day’s labour to exhaust her so she might fail an assessment with the Commander? Surely not.

Although…now that she thought about it…she _had_ only been given fifteen minutes break…which would mean that had she not gone early in the morning to pick up the new contract, she wouldn’t have had nearly enough time to collect it, read it, sign it and return it to the Captain by the afternoon. Oh screw.

She stopped outside her dorm room. Clara was a respectable leader, wasn’t she? If she _had_ tried to sabotage Petra’s assessment with the Commander tomorrow…Petra didn’t want to think about it, but she knew she couldn’t return to Clara’s squad if it were true. And she _wasn’t_ going to fail.

She took a deep breath, and pushed into her dorm room. She needed to get as much sleep as humanly possible.


	7. Chapter 7

**Friday**

It was a bright morning; the skies were clear and the sun shone cheerfully, providing a pleasant shard of warmth through the biting October cold.

Erwin strode out across the sparring grounds towards the first ODM run, tailed by Mike, Hange and Moblit. In the near distance, the Special Op’s squad were lined up, fully equipped and ready to go.

He had to admit he was somewhat intrigued; since their first meeting on the Monday morning, the Captain had barely updated him on his progress at all, indeed the whole search for a candidate had had an air of distant chaos. Levi had only ever provided him with a single name, which could be considered a completely foolish move…or perhaps it was an inspired one.

Levi’d then left a short note on his desk stating that the squad would be ready for the leadership’s observation on Friday morning, earlier than their original schedule.

He attempted to muster some level of hopefulness, but found that six months down the line, optimism was a slight struggle. Still, if Levi were as confident about this new set-up as he were dealing a deadly blow, then they would have no problems. One of the Captain’s greatest strengths was his ability to quickly and accurately read people.

And, after all, Levi had never failed to execute one of Erwin’s commands.

“Good morning.” He surveyed the short line.

They saluted diligently, “Sir!”

Levi stood at the end of the line, arms crossed, and inclined his head “Erwin.”

Erwin noted that Petra was certainly providing variety in this line-up. Perhaps that was exactly what this squad needed.

“I hope you are all adequately prepared for this trial. As in the past, I will be moving between the observation platforms, reviewing your course. Then, once the course is completed, the data will be briefly evaluated between the four of us,” He gestured to Mike, Hange and Moblit, “before we do the same for the static training zone. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir!” Came the chorus.

“As a bell.” Levi uttered.

“Very well then. I wish you the best of luck.”

The first ODM run was set up slightly differently to the rest of the runs. It was built for assessment purposes: where cadets were examined for their ODM grades at the end of training, and new recruits were trialled for placement with their first squad.

Each observation platform was placed up in the trees in clear view of a dummy titan, or group of them, giving spectators a clearer vantage point for moves that couldn’t always be seen from the ground.

Erwin nodded to his trio of assistants, who followed him up into the trees to the first platform. Once they’d landed, Mike fired a flare, signalling the start of the trial.

They hadn’t been at the first platform longer than ten seconds when the first whirr of wires was heard. There was only one dummy titan here, but it was being operated by five scouts on the ground for optimum movement.

“Ooh this is gonna be good I can feel it. Can’t you feel it?” Hange said, their eyes brimming with excitable hunger. They were tightly gripping and tugging on Moblit’s arm.

“Ow, please - Section Commander, that hurts!” Moblit exclaimed. He was meant to be writing notes of everything that happened, but once again his superior officer was making things more than a little tricky.

Erwin silently held up a single hand to the pair, to which they instantly quieted. If Petra was “outstanding” enough to match Levi on the run, even a single blink could mean missing vital movements. He could do without being distracted by chatter.

Gunther whizzed into view, ducking under the dummy’s arm and around its front. He was darting left and right, moving in and out of the danger zones to try and draw the wooden limbs his way. The next thing they knew, Eld arose behind from out of nowhere and struck the nape with a solid hit, taking out the dummy.

It was astounding. A glance up to the high branches revealed Oruo and Petra; their work had somehow gone completely unnoticed. It appeared that they had started near ground level and zipped up the dummy at lightning speed, slicing as they went, and the two arms clunked off of the dummy’s sides seconds after the nape was cut.

All this and not a single word was voiced between the team. Fascinating. Erwin smiled; the Captain’s strategies were getting stronger.

It was a solid formation, but it wouldn’t work when the team came up against more than one enemy. Erwin glanced at Mike, who fired a green flare and the party of observers moved on to the next platform. As they landed Mike fired another, permitting the squad to continue on to the following section of the course.

Once again, mere moments at the new platform passed before the wires were heard. This time though, there were three dummies, and Erwin wasn’t going to miss a movement.

All five squad members appeared simultaneously, the first sighting of Levi too. Eld and Gunther sped to the first dummy, Petra and Oruo took the second, while the Captain approached the third.

“Petra, bank left, get the arm.” Oruo shouted, and she did as he asked, spiralling under the dummy’s large hand and cutting it clean off, while Oruo narrowly evaded being hit on the opposite side.

Erwin noted the gracefulness to Petra’s movement which somewhat reflected Levi’s.

Meanwhile Eld had gotten himself caught down by the ground, unable to escape from the moving legs of the first dummy, and he was in danger of literally getting his wires crossed. He was calling up to Gunther, who was similarly struggling to evade its flailing arms.

Hange gasped, their eyes flitting from Eld to Gunther and back; “Oh - Oh!”, while Moblit furiously scribbled notes.

Petra, having noticed the disturbance at the first dummy, dashed upwards, revolving midair and chopping the left arm from it, freeing Gunther, who descended and hacked off its leg, freeing Eld.

As the first dummy came crashing down to the floor, Petra returned to ‘distract’ the second dummy, allowing Oruo to get into an ideal position, from which he cut its nape.

All the while the Captain scrutinised from a high branch, having taken out his dummy a few seconds beforehand.

It was by no means a flawless operation, but the improvements from their previous assessments were tenfold. The squad had started to properly communicate with each other, rather than banking on guess work and one-upmanship. It was quite incredible the speed at which that had happened too; perhaps the Captain had taken Erwin’s advice, and implemented some team-building exercises. He smiled, and indicated for them to continue through the course.

Each new dispatch continued similarly, the odd tangle and hiccup, which was quickly corrected by the team. There were even some moments of pure cohesion, where the team moved like a troop of acrobats, particularly the spinning figures of Levi and Petra. It was (as always) nothing short of thrilling to watch Levi, he was ever-magnetic in action, but Erwin noticed that he was similarly drawn to Petra; though not quite as fast, she moved artfully with elegance and precision. She was glowing, fully in her element.

He felt settled, it was finally looking like they would soon have a squad he could place at any point in his scouting formation, a squad he could trust to complete any task on an expedition. Excellent.

The meeting between the observers had been brief and unanimous, they wanted to continue on to the static training zone as quickly as possible. The squad had taken titan strides forward on the ODM run; if they continued in this direction, they would be formidable, and everyone seemed nothing short of passionate to see them in action again…except Mike, who as usual wasn’t giving much away, he simply grunted.

The static training zone didn’t disappoint either.

In this case each of the observers was positioned separately on platforms spread throughout the zone, and none of them would have to move around. Sixty-four targets were set across the area, twice a standard exercise; but seeing as this was supposedly the most elite squad, they needed to be tested at a higher level.

On Mike’s flare, Levi divided the team evenly, with him and Eld taking the longest routes around the edges of the zone, and the remaining three split through the centre. They raced through like a five-person whirlwind, coming close to the record for fastest time, which was held by Mike’s squad. Petra also clocked in the second most hits, taking out twelve targets, only behind Levi who took out twenty.

“Well Erwin, I’d say that was a successful morning wouldn’t you?” Hange crowed, descending from the trees to the platform where the Commander stood contemplatively. Moblit and Mike had appeared from their platforms too to join them.

“Indeed. Things are looking up Hange.” He placed a firm hand on their shoulder, watching the new and improved Special Operations Squad as they congregated back at the start of the zone, framed rather dramatically by the sun’s forenoon rays.

“Moblit - did you write that down? Looks like our pal Petra has Erwin’s approval - you know what that means!”

Moblit gulped, “Uh, do I Section Commander?”

“It _means_ it won’t be long until I can call on them to capture titans for me to research!” Hange squealed, practically jumping into the air.

Erwin intervened, “Hold your horses Hange. Let them get through their first expedition as a squad before you start recruiting them to assist you.”

“Mm.” Mike grunted.

It wasn’t long until the whole group had reconvened in the field by the entrance to the zone. The Levi Squad stood to attention as the Commander addressed them;

“I’d like to personally thank you all for such an enlightening morning. Let me be the first to congratulate Petra Ral as the newest member of the Special Operations Squad.”

Hange cheered, Mike sniffed and Moblit gave an awkward single clap, which caused him to drop his notepad. Though the squad were stood saluting, a ripple of delight ran through them, from Eld’s wide grin to Oruo’s smug smirk. Petra looked somewhere between cheerfully tearful and terrified. It was only Levi whose expression didn’t change a single iota; he remained statuesque at the end of the line, completely unfazed by the revelation.

“Today was the first step towards your collective potential being fully realised, and I look forward to seeing what you will go on to achieve for the Survey Corps. Levi, drop the contract in my office to sign. At ease.”

Petra Ral. He smiled. It seemed that one name was all Levi had to provide after all. Erwin liked it when a gamble paid off.

—

Captain Levi, the Commander and his entourage had only just started walking back towards the offices when Petra felt herself be hoisted into the air and thrown up and down. Through her tangle of flying hair she could make out Eld and Gunther below her, arms outstretched to catch and fling her up once again.

“Wheeeyy!!” Eld yelled, and from her flailing skyward position she saw the Commander turn his head and chuckle.

“Hey! Put me down - put me down!” She howled, but they couldn’t hear over Eld’s loud chanting:

“For she’s a jolly good fellow, for she’s a jolly good fellow - everyone together! For she - ”

“ELD!”

They swiftly caught her and placed her back on her two feet and she wobbled slightly, lightheaded.

“Sorry - got a little carried away there.” Eld muttered, ruffling her hair.

“Welcome to the team.” Gunther patted her on the shoulder, smiling, and Eld gave Oruo a knowing look and elbow.

“Yeah - congrats.” Oruo murmured, glaring at Eld and folding his arms.

She studied her brand new squad mates’ (mostly) pleased expressions, and in a split-second, all of her anxiety dissipated. For the first time in three days, she felt fully at peace. It was going to be alright.

She beamed widely, “Thanks guys, this is actually kind of exciting.”

“Hell yeah, high-five booster-seat!” Eld chirped, holding his hand up.

Great, she already had a new nickname. She half-heartedly high-fived him.

“So, I guess first thing’s first - cleaning your new dorm room this afternoon before you move all your junk in this weekend.” Eld announced.

“My - my new dorm room?”

Wait - she got her _own_ room?! Why wasn’t that written in giant red letters across the front page of the contract? She would have instantly signed it, no qualms.

“That enthusiasm of yours will die just as soon as you’ve had the Captain assess the cleanliness of your floor.” Oruo butted in.

Gunther had a glazed look of distant fear, “And I’d recommend bleaching the walls if I were you.”

“But, if the room is empty right now…isn’t it clean already?”

“You’d think.” Gunther grumbled.

“Right - uh - noted.” Petra appeared as much as ever like a bewildered deer, “And where would this new room be?”

“In our _elite_ barracks. Don’t worry my dear, I’ll show you.” Oruo put a hand on her shoulder and began to guide her away, “These two chumps are off to the next town collecting supplies with the wagons this afternoon - I’ll give you a tour, help you clean up…”

“Maybe we should swap Oruo, I doubt your giant head will even make it through the front door.” Eld teased.

“At least _I’m_ not wearing a ladies blouse.” Oruo returned with a sly grin.

“This is a standard issue military shirt!”

“Uh - see you both later on maybe?” Petra called as they walked off.

“We’ll probably see you tomorrow - we’re scheduled to train cadets.” Gunther shouted back.

Oh, that was right, training cadets on Saturdays…she must have skim-read that part of the contract.

She felt a strange pang of gloom on being reminded of her suddenly altered schedule. At some point today she was going to have to let her old squad know she was officially leaving.

When she’d returned to her dorm the previous evening, Hannah and Jules were there, but the atmosphere was fraught. Hannah didn’t acknowledge her properly, barely at all in fact, and, though Julia attempted some light-hearted conversation, they eventually ended up going to sleep almost zero words spoken between them. Then Petra’d had to leave at dawn again to make it to the Captain’s briefing before the assessment, and since then everything had been such a wild ride she hadn’t had a spare second to worry about any weird ex-squad tensions.

Darn. She really hoped Hannah would come around. It would really suck to leave her old squad on bad terms with anyone. Then there was Clara…

Well, there was nothing she could do about it at this exact moment. She decided to try and stop thinking about it until she directly needed to deal with it. She unquestionably deserved to feel pleased with herself right now and not be dragged down by such trivial things.

The morning’s assessment had been exhilarating. The second they began flying through the trees as a squad her certainty in her decision had been hammered home; it turned out that a vote of confidence in your skill from Captain Levi was a godsend for your own personal conviction, and she felt she had performed to her best.

She was an _elite soldier_ now; it was actually written down in ink, and signed by none other than the Commander himself. She’d have to find a moment to write to her father, he’d be so proud. Though maybe she’d omit the part about her job somehow getting _more_ dangerous…at least in her first letter.

The pace at which the group of them had taken out dummy titans was thrilling, her heart thudded and that addictive surge of adrenaline rushed through her body for the entirety of the exercise. She was glad to have been mainly paired with Oruo as they already profoundly knew how each other operated, but had also found it remarkably easy to work with Gunther and Eld again. Plus they’d all had their moments assisting one another, even Oruo seemed focused on working as an equal part of the team; she knew that wasn’t his strength.

But...the Captain.

It was truly a struggle not to watch him. His movements were utterly captivating; he was a spinning, deadly blur of precision and speed. Earlier in the week he had been incredibly fast, but now she had confirmation that he had been holding back then, of _course_ he had. Every time she found herself starting to watch him, she’d had to reluctantly tear her eyes away; after all he’d _specifically_ asked her not to get distracted (a rookie mistake anyway)…she just hadn’t realised it was _him_ that was going to distract her.

She didn’t know why she was so surprised by it, he was famously the best in the regiment. It was in the goddamn papers how good he was. You don’t get the title ‘Humanity’s Strongest’ by being in any way average. Maybe it was that there just weren’t the words to describe his talent, it had to be witnessed first hand.

And now he was her squad leader. A shiver of anticipation and excitement travelled up her spine.

The new quarters were situated within the western side of one of the the standard barracks buildings, not too far from the women’s section where she’d stayed before. They had their own ‘mini-wing’ as it were.

Oruo was making a real song and dance of showing her around, over-explaining every little detail of every single room. She yawned…how could she tell him she wasn’t interested in the esteemed doorknob designer who had lovingly carved every handle with a tiny knife? (Also no-way in hell was _that_ true). Or that she was a hundred percent sure that she didn’t need to know the thread count of his bedsheets…what _would_ be useful to know was if / how the hot water functioned, for example.

She’d have to ask one of the other two guys later on.

“And _this_ ….” Oruo paused for effect before flinging open a cupboard, “Is the cleaning cupboard.”

_Oh dang._

It wasn’t a large cupboard by any means, but it was brimming with perfectly aligned buckets, mops, cloths, dusters, sprays, sponges, brooms…and an amalgamation of cleaning products, some of which she’d never seen before, sporting words she wasn’t even sure she could pronounce. On the inside of the two doors hung four aprons and eight white bandanas, marigold gloves poking out from each apron pocket.

“Ah yes…” Oruo tapped his lip in thought, “We’ll have to get you a cleaning uniform. You can use Eld’s for now - I’ll go into town for that while you clean your room.”

He threw a pile of fabric and gloves at her, and filled a bucket with various bits and bobs from the cupboard.

“This way to your glorious new chamber m’lady.” He declared, swaggering down the corridor.

Petra rolled her eyes, bundling the cleaning apparel in her arms and following him down the short hallway to a door, one away from the end.

The room was modest, but it was hers. She took a breath, her eyes sparkling. A humble bed took up the majority of the space, but there was also a small desk, basic chest of drawers and fine white linen curtains, rippling in the light breeze from the open window.

“Jeez it’s freezing in here…” She muttered, placing the bundle on the desk.

“I’d keep the window open while you clean if I were you. Don’t want it smelling of bleach when you come to move your things in…though if you get too cold you would be very welcome to bunk in with me.”

She threw a stray sponge at him, “Oruo! My god it’s been about five minutes of being back on a squad with you and already I’m regretting agreeing to it.”

He held up his hands, “All I’m saying is that the option is there. Wouldn’t want you freezing to death in the night now, would we? I’m just looking out for _you_.”

She made to pick up another sponge so he darted towards the exit, but then suddenly stopped and leant nonchalantly in the door frame.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two, depending on how quickly I can find this exact get-up in such a minuscule size. Hmm…I should have asked the Captain where he got his.”

“It’s an _apron_ , Oruo. I’m not sure they come in sizes.”

“And don’t forget to do under the desk…I’ve been caught out there before.”

“ _Under_ the desk?” She gawked, realising he’d left.

She had never thought she was particularly bad at cleaning and tidying up, but she certainly wasn’t passionate about it. You had to be passionate about it to have a cupboard like that; it looked like the entire shelf of cleaning products from the local shop. Now she thought of it, she wouldn’t be surprised if it actually _was_ the entire shelf of cleaning products from the local shop.

Did she have to wash the curtains? The room already looked remarkably clean, and she had no idea where to start. She sat down by the bucket and laid out the items one by one across the floor. What on earth were any of these things for? This was just like one of the conundrums she would do from the Sunday paper with her father, except instead of ‘how many seconds are there in January’ (one, January 2nd), it was ‘what implement do you use to clean _under_ a table, and _why_ in living hell would one need to do such a thing in the first place?’

Giving up on solving that riddle almost immediately, she began randomly pouring different cleaning liquids into the bucket and mixing them around. Well, it smelled like bleach…and a tiny bit like lemons. She donned the gloves, cautiously took a rag and began working.

********************

Levi stopped outside the Commander’s heavy door, just as he had four days prior. It was unbelievable how quickly the week had gone by, and Levi was a man who knew speed. He had known he could trust his decision, and he’d caught the glint of approval in Erwin’s eye.

If Erwin had been anyone else, Levi would be quietly enjoying success, and perhaps have taken him down a peg or two with a wry comment. But Erwin _wasn’t_ anyone else, and he seemed to skate above ever being wrong. Whatever high horse Levi got on, Erwin’s was always higher; though he was never arrogant or complacent, he simply had a natural talent for being ahead of every curve, be it political, tactical or otherwise. It was one of the main reasons why Erwin was just about the only person that Levi trusted implicitly. If Erwin had said that Petra wasn’t right for the squad, then she wouldn’t have been right for the squad.

But she was right for the squad, and Erwin had seen it.

He pushed the door open to find the Commander sat at the desk, Hange leaning by it and Moblit hurriedly ordering his notes.

“Congratulations Levi! Your squad has come on leaps and bounds since the last time I saw them.” Hange proclaimed cheerfully, “Not to mention you’ve collected _the_ most adorable subordinate the scouts had to offer…was that deliberate?” Hange’s glasses glinted in the light, concealing their mischievous eyes.

“What.” Levi snapped, glaring at them.

The. Fuck?

“S-Section Commander - don’t you think that’s a little inappropriate?” Moblit babbled, blushing a little.

“Please, I was _talking_ about Eld.” Hange winked at Levi as he continued to stare daggers.

Shitty four eyes.

“Hange.” Erwin looked at them firmly, a note of warning in his voice.

“Tch.” Levi walked towards the desk and placed the contract on it with some force, “Here. Let’s get this over with.”

The room fell quiet as the Commander scanned and signed the documents. Levi suddenly became aware of his elevated heart rate. Must be adrenaline from the evaluation.

Erwin dotted the final ‘i’ and crossed the final ‘t’ and handed the rolled-up documents to Moblit.

“That’s all settled then. Moblit, would you mind filing this along with your notes from the assessment?” He said, standing from his desk, and the once-again-laden-Moblit nodded and rushed from the room, “I think times like these call for some manner of celebration, don’t you?”

Hange smiled and hopped away from the desk, heading for the door, “Ooh yeah, let’s try the smokey one from that stuck-up Lord Balder.”

They then left to fetch Mike, leaving Erwin and Levi alone in the office. There was a short, but comfortable silence as Erwin moved to the drinks cabinet.

“I must say Levi, I wasn’t sure earlier this week when you came to me with Petra’s file, but I was more than happy to be proven be wrong. I’m impressed.” Erwin searched the shelves to find the decanter and four small glasses, which he placed on his desk.

Levi remained still, watching the Commander return to take out a bottle of whiskey, glimpse the label, then evenly pour a glass.

“That being said, we still need results. There’s just over a month until the next expedition, and I’ll most likely need you on the front lines, defending construction of the supply base.” He poured a second glass and handed it to Levi.

“We’ll be ready by then.” The shorter man said, taking the drink and looking into the glinting amber liquid. Nice colour.

Erwin searched him with his wily blue eyes, and a slow smile crept across his face, “Good. I’d expect nothing less. And Levi?” 

The Captain looked up from his whiskey.

“Perhaps you could delegate some paperwork to your team now you have more hands on deck, it hasn’t slipped my notice that you’re behind.”

Levi opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by babbling as Hange entered with Mike. Erwin passed out more whiskey and the four of them toasted to the improved Special Ops Squad.

They often ended up here together, drinking all manner of alcohol in Erwin’s office following expeditions, or after securing significant funding. The most likely reason was that the sheer amount of paperwork they each had meant many late evenings with no-one else for company, and a peculiar kind of friendship had formed between them. It was almost a ritual now.

Levi’s throat burned as he gulped down the fiery liquid. It had been a while since he’d had a drink at all…not that it ever really affected him. He was concerned for Hange though, who was known to get louder and more shameless when they’d had too much, and they’d already said more than enough. Even Erwin on the odd occasion became a bit red-faced and slurring, though it was only the afternoon, he likely wouldn’t have more than one or he’d never get his work done. Mike managed to keep it together usually, but he barely spoke so there was always a chance he got quietly hammered and took himself off to his dorm before he did anything stupid.

Levi drained his glass, placing it back on the desk, “Hey Erwin, thanks for the whiskey. You can tell the noble who gave it to you that 601 or whenever was a good year.”

“601?” Hange was stunned, “Levi, please tell me you know that the walls weren’t even built then.”

“No shit."

“Before you go Captain, I was going to propose a weekly observation of your squad, just until your first expedition together in a few weeks.” Erwin suggested.

“Fine by me.” Levi uttered, taking his leave.

He’d have a lot of paperwork and planning to start this weekend, but his squad wouldn’t need his assistance to sort out Petra moving into their barracks, they were competent enough for that. He had to start trusting them more, especially after their much improved performance today, and especially if he wanted them to unwaveringly trust him. That was step two of his squad improvement plan.

Hopefully by Monday he would have finished revising their usual drill exercises to include Petra, and they could start working on different formations and coordination.

He made a mental note that he planned to drill her hard sparring too, she couldn’t be allowed to continue in an elite squad with such feeble skills in that area; no, he would get her adept enough that she could punch Eld in the jaw. Hm. Always good to have a solid goal to work towards.

He picked up an apple from the mess hall and made his way to his office.

********************

Petra slumped on the couch in the small common room area. She was beat. When she’d left her new dorm room, _everything_ sparkled. Even the cracks between the floorboards were shining. She was a little scared to go back in there in case she somehow dirtied the walls or floor by looking at them the wrong way or something; the guys had put the fear of god into about the Captain’s standards. But she needed a little break, and her curtains still had to dry on the rack before she could hang them back up. She was taking no chances with this cleaning thing, no way was she about to fuck something up on day one of being on her new squad.

There was a timid knock at the front door and she lifted her head slightly. Oruo? He should probably be back around now, but he definitely wouldn’t need to knock.

She made her way to the front door and opened it to reveal a familiar freckled scout stood awkwardly in the hall.

“James?”

“Oh Petra - Hi!” He grinned, a little shamefaced.

Bullseye. It seemed her match-making arrow of love had hit bang on the money. Pride bloomed in her heart.

“I gave Gunther your note the other day.”

“Yes - yeah thank you for doing that.” He paused, shuffling his feet a little, “Uh, is he around at all?”

She couldn’t force back her canny smile, “He’s actually on a re-supply mission right now…but I can give him a message if you want?”

“Um sure - I guess if you could just tell him I dropped by that would be…” He cleared his throat, continuing in a deeper tone than before, “That would be grand.”

His eyed widened and his cheeks flushed a little, and Petra bit back a giggle. She didn’t want to make him feel more embarrassed, he was probably already beating himself up.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell him.” She beamed.

“Thanks Petra, I’ll see you round. Oh but please don’t tell him I said the word ‘grand.’ You’re a star!” He clapped a hand to his forehead muttering _“a star?”_ quietly to himself before walking off down the hall.

“Yeah - see you!”

God it must be exhausting pretending to be cool when you were head over heels. She watched him turn the corner, smiling and shaking her head. Well that was unbelievably sweet. Her day kept getting better and better-

“Gentlemen callers already eh?” Oruo said smugly, carrying a large brown paper bag down the hall, “You know, you have to fill out a request form and get it approved by the Captain if you want any _friends_ over, if you know what I mean.”

Brilliant, this oaf was back.

“Oruo, I think even your head-lice know what you mean.”

Oruo dropped the bag, his face white, “Lice?! What the hell Petra I don’t-”

“Yap yap yap, did you get me an apron or not?”

It was quite something the speed at which they had reverted back to their old ways, as though they _hadn’t_ spent months apart barely speaking at all.

“That white bandana around your head makes you look like an old fishwife.” Oruo grumbled, picking up the bag and strutting past her into their quarters, “And for your information the Captain would never allow someone with _lice_ on his elite squad.”

Petra rolled her eyes at him for what felt like the hundredth time today and shut the door behind them.


	8. Chapter 8

It was late by the time Eld and Gunther returned from their supply trip. They were sat quietly in thesmall common room, Gunther reading a book titled “The Wayward Mage’s Revenge” and Eld writing a letter home, accompanied only by the spitting and crackling of the little fire.

Eld’s arms were aching from carrying heavy barrels and wooden dummy parts (for assembly) all afternoon. He’d complained extensively on the way back to Gunther to try and get _any_ kind of response out of the guy, but Gunther once again barely said anything, despite the fact that Eld knew his arms must be just as sore.

Even so, Gunther _had_ made the odd decision to read in the common room. He hadn’t done that for a long time, preferring to take himself off to his own dorm…so that was something. Though they were sat in near total silence, Eld meditated on how nice it was to have another presence with him in the room as he wrote his letter. He’d been meaning to write home for a while, and just hadn’t gotten round to it, and he desperately wanted to hear news from his family.

“Eld, tomorrow you’re going into town to get cleaning attire for Petra. You can fill out a reimbursement form.”

Once again the Captain had crept up on them like an irritable evening ghost; a ghost that was unusually obsessed with order, discipline and making sure forms were (neatly!) filled out in triplicate for some reason. The glow of the fire enhanced the shadows around his face, making him seem even more drained than usual.

“Captain? Right I - well the thing is…” Eld put down his pen and looked directly at his squad leader, who remained stony as ever, “Do we have some kind of squad pot, or fund for these things? I’m a little low on-”

“What, did you spend all your money on hair clips again?”

Eld gaped and Gunther momentarily looked up from his book, repressing a grin. The Captain moved into the kitchenette, likely to boil water for tea, and continued;

“Then go to Erwin’s office with a request form. It’ll take you longer so you can take the time out of your lunch break tomorrow.”

Eld cursed under his breath and picked his pen back up. A few moments of stillness with the quiet bubbling of boiling water passed before Oruo marched in, overloaded with firewood. He stopped abruptly when he realised not one, not two but all three of his male squad mates were in the room. He stared at them for a moment; it seemed he was trying to remember the last time they’d all been in one place when it wasn’t mandatory.

“Is it someone’s birthday?” He asked somewhat tentatively, placing the firewood in its usual corner spot.

“No.” Eld breathed. Wait…it could be. He had no way of knowing. He brushed the thought off, “We were just discussing getting Petra an apron and gloves and stuff.”

“Oh no need. _I_ already sorted that out this afternoon.”

Three pairs of eyes snapped to him.

Oruo’s hand returned to the back of his head once again; his one constant gesture that revealed that he wasn’t _quite_ as confident as he put across, “Don’t believe me? Go ahead and check the cupboard.”

The Captain looked at Eld, who sighed, loudly grating his chair along the floor and then leaving for the hall to check. There, on the inside of the left hand cupboard door, hanging neatly beside the others, was a new apron set. Well. It seemed the team’s new changes had gone beyond training. He returned to the common room and gave a faintly baffled nod, before sitting back in his chair.

The Captain stared at Oruo inexpressively, steam from his fresh cup of tea gently curling up past his shadowed face. Several seconds passed. Oruo was fighting withering under the indecipherable gaze and he had stilled completely; he looked a little lost, not to mention his arm had to have been aching from being held up in that position.

Finally the Captain spoke, “Good work. Fill out a reimbursement form.”

Then he swiftly exited. No-one moved, but the air was lighter, as though the room itself had taken a breath in.

Eld picked up his pen again, “You know Oruo, the amount you scratch your head like that you should consider getting checked for lice.”

Oruo paled, “What did Petra say to you? I don’t - oh whatever.” He spluttered before quitting the room.

********************

“Congratulations!”

“Incredible! Gonna miss ya.”

“That’s amazing - well done!”

“Wow, great news, awesome.”

Petra was struggling to breathe, being crushed within the sheer force of her ex-squad-mates group hug.

She had been apprehensive about telling them officially that she was leaving, but their joint reaction had been overwhelmingly positive and she was brimming with equal parts proud elation for her promotion and heartbroken sorrow that she wouldn’t get to see them everyday.

When they broke apart, she fought back tears, and a tankard of ale was forcefully thrust into her hand. Faces and colours were swirling and time seemed to be moving at record pace as she chatted to them all. She would still have make time to spend with them, she was going to hold herself to that.

“Hey, dude?” Jules appeared behind her, ushering her away from the main group, “I think you should come outside for a second.”

Petra merely blinked as she was led out to one of the scrappy picnic tables outside the tavern, the cold air jolting her out of her tipsy daze. Hannah was sat alone at one of the tables, a glass of wine in front of her. She was bundled in a heavy winter coat and thick dark blue scarf, a favourite of hers. Her eyes moved slowly up to the two women in front of her, and she looked a little worn.

“Hey short-stuff.” She sounded almost mournful.

Petra pressed her lips together and stared at her. She’d kept her promise to herself for the afternoon and tried not to think about this moment, which in theory had been great, but now in practice meant she had absolutely no idea how to respond. She hadn’t yet properly sorted through her countless thoughts or feelings about leaving.

A few moments passed.

“Hey Hannah.”

Jules nudged her forward, “Petra, sit down. You guys need to talk this the fuck out because I ain’t playing middleman. Screw that.”

“It’s cool.” Hannah said pulling at the end of her scarf, “This won’t take long.”

Petra tentatively sat, still cycling through her emotions. Her mind was spinning like a roulette wheel, and her response at this point would be just as predictable, i.e. not at all.

“Petra, I can’t pretend I’m not mad at you. I really am.” Hannah sipped her wine, “But I also don’t wanna _not_ see you or hang out like this. You’re like…important to me or whatever. So…I guess…” She smiled timidly, “I guess congratulations are in order.”

Reluctant congratulations?

Petra sat for a while, watching the flickering lights from through the steamed up tavern window as they moved across the table. So Hannah was mad. Petra was kinda mad too. Didn’t she deserve her friend’s unfaltering support whatever she chose to do?

“Petra?” Hannah urged, half hiding her face behind her drink, as though she was suddenly doubting her reconciliation approach.

Still, in many ways, Hannah was just showing how much Petra meant to her by being mad in the first place. She was mad because she wouldn’t get to see her friend every day. The anger was coming from a nice place really, if a little misguided. She took several gulps of beer just as time ticked into uncomfortably quiet territory for the second time.

“You’re…important to me too.” She said eventually, “Or whatever.” and faintly smiled back. In their line of work, it was a complete a waste of time to stay upset with each other for no real reason.

Hannah’s face melted into a wide grin, “I’ll cheers to that.”

“ _Thank the fucking walls_.” Jules exclaimed in a breath of relief, sliding onto the bench next to Petra as they clinked their drinks.

“So, are we all good now?” Petra asked.

“Yeah. Yeah we’re good. Oh _but!_ ” Hannah’s eyes widened with terrifying excitement, reminding Petra somewhat of Hange, “You owe me! You owe me one dare!”

“What?! No I-”

“Hell yeah baby! I believe _someone_ had to muck out the stables as punishment - am I right? Of course I am. Consider this moment as me cashing it in.”

“No - you said one _week_ of stables duty-”

Jules put an arm around her, “Oh honey, you gotta read the fine print. You’d better _believe_ you owe us a dare, _and_ a truth if I remember right.”

“Oh god.”

There was a pause. Perhaps a petty dare was the least she could do if she was leaving them for another squad.

Petra gave them a perturbed look, “…Fine. What the hell do you want from me.”

Hannah cackled deliciously, “This is gonna be fun. I _dare_ you…” She leant in close and her dark eyes drilled intensely into Petra’s, “To challenge Captain Levi to an arm wrestle.”

Petra’s mouth fell open and Julia gasped with glee. Hannah held up her hand;

“Conditions! He _has_ to accept it - you can’t just say you asked him and he said no. It _has_ to be in the mess hall when we’re all there to watch the event…so either lunch or dinner. You don’t have to win, though that would earn you bonus points, but you do have to do it by the end of your first week on his squad.”

“ _Bonus points?!_ So I theoretically beat _Humanity’s Strongest soldier_ in a battle of _strength_ , and you’re gonna give me _bonus points?!_ What the hell am I meant to do with those? What, are they more valuable than money?!”

Julia and Hannah were wheezing from laughing.

“Guys! I’m serious! I don’t think I can pull that off…I’ve never seen him eat in the mess hall even _one_ time, let alone-”

“Part of the challenge short-stack. If you manage it though, I’ll owe you a dare in return, how about that?”

“Damn it Hannah, couldn’t you just have asked me to do an interpretive dance or eat a moth or something?”

Julia slapped her thigh, howling, “Eat a _moth!_ ”

Hannah looked at her slyly, “Would you rather I get you to kiss Oruo with tongue?”

Petra choked on her beer.

How was Hannah coming up with these at such speed? It was honestly a talent. It was like she’d raided Petra’s brain and found the most uncomfortable things to ask of her.

“I worry for anyone who kisses him with tongue, it just gives him the opportunity to bite _theirs_.”

Hannah guffawed, “Damn! Well baby girl looks like you only have one option then. Arm. Wrestle.”

She high-fived Jules.

“Ohhh.” Petra covered her face with her hands.

How on god’s-green-triple-walled section of the earth was she going to pull this one off?

“Wait - what happens if I don’t manage it?”

“You mean _other_ than the feelings of shame and all consuming failure? You can clean and oil my gear for a month.”

Oh shoot. _More_ cleaning.

Hannah held out a hand to her, “Shake on it.”

Petra looked at the outstretched hand disdainfully, before necking her beer and taking it in her own, binding the ridiculous verbal contract.

“And…?” Petra looked at Jules with some worry, “Didn’t you have a truth to ask?”

A smile sneaked over Jules’s face, “Sure. But you’ll have to wait for that one.”

Uh-oh.

Petra sighed as Julia clapped her on the back. She looked up at her grinning friends and found that couldn’t suppress her idiotic smile. She was going to miss this. Those dumb boys better be worth it.

Hold on.

“Does Clara know about the transfer?” She asked suddenly.

Her friends glanced at one another. The background hubbub seemed to be getting gradually louder.

“No idea.” Julia said, “I’m sure someone in the office will have had to let her know.”

Hannah nodded in agreement.

“Hm.” Petra gazed down into her drink.

In an instant, they were disturbed by cheering and chanting, and encircled by their squad mates drunkenly yelling. They had exited the tavern and roughly surrounded the picnic table, wrapping the three in inexhaustibly bubbling positive energy and raising their tankards; yammering incoherently.

“GOLDILOCKS!” Someone shouted, and three dumped their full tankards of beer onto the sitting women, drenching them.

“WAH!!!” Hannah shrieked,

“Those aren't the rules!!” Julia squealed, ringing out her shirt.

Petra looked out from under her dripping fringe, and found that all she could do was laugh.

********************

**The New and Improved Special Ops Squad - Week One - Monday** ****

It was officially the first week of the new set-up, and Eld was feeling remarkably upbeat.

The weekend had passed by in a blur, and he found that he hadn’t much seen Petra or any of his other squad mates at all. They’d been stationed separately for training cadets on the Saturday, and he’d taken the Sunday to exercise standby horses with Anna, then gone into town to send his letter. By the time he’d returned Petra had already moved all her stuff in, and it seemed everyone had taken off to their individual dorms, as though nothing had changed at all.

But then, this morning, Petra was up and in the kitchenette-common area before him or anyone else, smiling and humming to herself. The coffee pot was sitting on a small flame and she turned and looked at him brightly,

“How do you take your coffee?”

Eld could only blink, momentarily dumbstruck.

“Ah - er - just black is fine.” He said, still quietly astonished.

“Well that’s good, I like milk in mine and the rations we get are pathetic.” She giggled, pouring two cups out.

It was the perfect brew: smooth, not too bitter and with a gentle aroma. Thank the fucking lord, six months of morning drink-making hell _finally_ over.

“Petra,” Eld proclaimed, “Thank you.”

He almost felt the need to bow to her.

When Gunther entered he said very little, but was clearly stunned and impressed, draining his cup of coffee at speed and immediately going over to inspect the pot, undoubtedly trying to work out how Petra had managed to make it work.

Oruo remarked that he had known how the coffee pot worked the whole time and just hadn’t told anyone, because they hadn’t bothered to ask, to which Eld struggled not to clout him over the head, opting instead to ask him why he ‘ _hadn’t ever made it for them before then’_ instead of incessantly complaining that Eld’s coffee was trash.

In no time at all the four of them were on their way to the track once again for circuits. Petra looked pale, and Eld was trying (with limited success) to cheer her up with reassuring looks, and by poking fun at Oruo, something she seemed to enjoy nearly as much as Eld himself.

The Captain was already there when they arrived, not unusual for him. It was common knowledge between the squad that he barely slept, something Eld had informed Petra of in the morning.

Once again, Petra fell behind in the laps, and in the subsequent exercises, but continued to quietly persevere anyway. And this time she didn’t have a nosebleed.

The Captain reprimanded her during the group plank; “Petra, keep your ass flat, you’re not doing the damn downward dog.” And she steeled herself, correcting her posture. Eld smirked, wondering where the Captain had picked up yoga terminology. After a further two minutes she collapsed to the floor and they all looked to her with a snap.

“Up.” The Captain said simply, and she shakily picked herself back up into position. “What are you morons looking at? Focus on yourselves.”

Eld wondered what training was like in her old squad, how her ex-squad leader had spoken to her. He gave her an encouraging nod when she caught his eye, which seemed to motivate her, as for the remainder of the morning she looked marginally less like she was about to fall over.

After lunch, they made their way to the little gym on the northern edge of the grounds. It was ideal for smaller units to practice sparring, and contained a new piece of training equipment that Hange’s squad had recently been working on; a kind of giant spring board so soldiers could practice air-strikes without needing their gear.

A small pile of long, thin bamboo sticks lay on the floor.

“First things first,” The Captain picked up a pair of sticks and whipped them around in a circle so quickly that the air whistled a little;

“Pick up a pair of these and follow me.”

The team shared some baffled glances, but did as he said and followed him to the large springboard where he stood at the base, looking back at them over his shoulder.

“Watch.” He said simply, before walking away from the spring board, sprinting back towards it and jumping, flying through the air with the sticks. His lithe body fully revolved at least three times, though at the speed he was moving it was difficult to count exactly, and he brought the sticks down hard and together with a clack onto the middle of a sizeable wooden block situated some metres away.

Eld swallowed. That didn’t look easy. The Captain looked back towards them with his regular disinterested expression.

“It’s important that you hit right here,” He tapped the middle of the block with a stick, “Focus on precision. The momentum of the spins will help you hit harder, but it’ll also make it more difficult to be accurate, so concentrate on where you’re hitting. Once you clowns get the hang of it, we can move onto using blades. Anyone not using the board is sparring with sticks. We’ll cycle round until the break.”

“Yes sir!” They chanted.

The Captain called Oruo up to the spring board, and the remaining three of them moved into the middle of the room and stood equidistant apart, sticks in hand, ready to spar.

There was that look of fierce determination on Petra’s face again, her eyes sparking. The corner of Eld’s mouth twitched, he had an idea.

“Begin.” He declared.

He hurtled towards Gunther, “Petra, go behind!” He called out as his and Gunther’s sticks crossed and clashed together, shaking with the pressure of them each pushing against the other with equivalent force.

In a smooth swoop Petra’s sticks sailed over and either side of Gunther’s chest from behind him as she jumped onto his back, locking the tops of his arms back against his sides. At her pulling Gunther’s upper arms back, Eld walked forward, maintaining pressure on his crossed sticks.

“What the hell - a team up?” Gunther growled, his eyes boring into Eld’s as the three of them were rigid for a moment in their new position.

“Think on your feet Schultz.” Came Eld’s reply.

It was a testament to Gunther’s brute strength that he was still managing to hold Eld off with only his forearms from his semi-pinned position, though his jaw was clenched and it was clearly taking all of his effort. Gunther was probably the strongest of them all in terms of muscle mass, but, Eld mused, he could stand to rely on it less. Also, perhaps there was a part of Gunther that might enjoy Petra clinging to him like this…

He’d been right that Petra would immediately understand his command. She was truly a team player. He smirked, rapidly removing his crossed sticks and smacking them down together on Gunther’s left calf, causing him to lose his balance.

Eld jumped back as Gunther fell sideways to the floor, Petra just about managing to spring off him before he hit the ground and slumped onto his back, and she quickly moved her left stick under his chin.

“I said think on your _feet_.” Eld mocked, relaxing his stance and crossing his sticks back behind his neck.

Gunther looked furious as he batted Petra’s stick away from his face.

“I didn’t realise we were playing dirty.” He grumbled, picking himself up.

“I guess life isn’t clean.” Petra smiled, her internal fire flaring; she must have been proud not to lose her first ever sparring match as part of a new squad.

“Unless the Captain has anything to do with it.” Eld mused.

Petra tittered, then placed an apologetic hand on Gunther’s shoulder, “Sorry Gunther, I was just following orders.”

Gunther wordlessly shrugged and went to pick up his sticks. He knew when he’d been bested.

“Ready for round two?” Eld queried, and the other two nodded, moving back into equidistant positions.

—

“Petra, you’re up.” Levi brusquely commanded, gesturing to the board behind him with his thumb.

She was the last one of the squad to try out the spring board, which he’d deliberately arranged, suspecting she might find the movement the easiest.

The exercise was already going more smoothly than he’d imagined, and each of the men had shown a steady improvement in their air strikes. Good; that meant soon they could move onto using blades, and after that it wouldn’t be long until they could practice without him surveying them.

She approached the end of the board with scorching resolve.

“Need me to demonstrate it again?” He asked gruffly.

“No sir.”

She didn’t look at him. Her body was still, poised, and her eyes focused on the block of wood target as though she were calculating something. Interesting. He could see that she was considering every inch of her strike, visualising it. None of the others had done that.

“Are you waiting for it to spontaneously combust?” His tone was flat, “I haven’t got all day.”

She nodded resolutely, “Right.”

She walked away from the board and stopped. Just as he was about to chide her again for stalling, she turned and sprinted at full pelt towards it, springing high into the air and spinning, one, two, three times before landing on her feet faultlessly. The accuracy of her hit was slightly off centre and the strike wasn’t as powerful as it could be, but it was a remarkable first try. She straightened up, frowning and went to walk back to the base of the board.

“Stop.” Levi said firmly.

Petra froze and looked towards him with a hint of panic, before realising that he’d turned towards the three sparring men.

Oruo was kicking, lying on his back on top of Gunther, who had him in a choke hold. Eld was dodging his kicks, and trying to hit Oruo’s legs with his bamboo sticks. In an instant, they all ceased and looked towards Levi, who was once again frozen in place, arms folded.

“Why couldn’t any of you boneheads do it like that? She’s making you look like damn rookies. Get your sorry asses over here and watch how it’s done.” He turned back to her, “Again.”

She hesitated a little as though she wasn’t sure she’d heard right, but on catching his hard stare, immediately collected herself and returned to the board, flipping through the motions fluently once again.

Levi almost felt like smiling. Not quite though.

********************

The common room was as cold as it was empty. Petra took a moment just staring at it, cheerless in semi-darkness, lit only by a single wall torch. Hardly the ideal place to sit and do her crossword. No; it was her first week. She would make an effort with her new squad mates, even if none of them joined her, at least she could say she’d tried. Anyway, she’d enjoy relaxing on the old couch by herself, resting her once again throbbing limbs that were _not_ used to their increased workload. She knew it would be a while until they were.

She made her way to the sink, filling up the small yellow vase she’d brought from her old dorm room and placing the dainty blue wildflowers in it that she’d picked on her way back. There, a little more lively.

Lighting the second wall torch she moved to the fireplace, crouching in front of it and searching for anything, old newspaper or twigs to place around the unburned logs which had already been set.

Ever since she’d had a moment to herself she’d been replaying the Captain’s words;

_“She’s making you look like damn rookies.”_

Everyone enjoyed hearing praise now and again, but it was clear that the Captain’s was rarely awarded (if ever), and therefore much more worth earning. That was surely why she was so affected by it, and couldn’t seem to stop smiling while the sentence looped around and around and around.

The rest of the squad had been astounded by it after the session; which she tried not to be too offended by…it did seem that they acknowledged her skill but were shocked that their Captain’d inferred _anyone_ might be good at their job who wasn’t Erwin.

Though, she’d added at the time, it was less direct praise of her than it was a brutal take-down of them.

All in all, it had been a good day. There was a lot to learn from every single member of her new squad and she realised that for a long time, she’d been sailing by, not really being properly challenged unless she was beyond the wall. This new schedule would only make her better, and therefore increase her chances of survival on expeditions.

She lit the end of an old piece of newspaper and placed it in the fire, praying that it was enough to catch. She suspected it might not be, and stood, glowering at the fireplace, willing it to catch with her eyes. A figure crossed into her periphery and she saw Eld standing in the doorway.

“Flowers eh? Nice.” He said, before raiding the cupboards in the kitchenette.

“Hi Eld.” Her words came out even more exhaustedly than she was expecting, and she nearly laughed at herself from surprise.

“Sounds like _you_ are in need of some dusty old wine.” He brought a prehistoric-looking bottle out of the cupboard, along with a corkscrew and pair of wine glasses, “And _perhaps_ a game of ‘Hungry Hungry Titans?’” He raised his eyebrows.

She smirked, “Why not. Though I’m not trying any of that ancient looking wine until you’ve done a taste test.”

There was a popping as he removed the cork, “Ah, looks like it’s time to put my sommelier certification to good use.”

“You’re a trained sommelier?”

He shook his head, grinning, “Petra, if you want to survive on this squad, you’re gonna need to become a lot less gullible.”

Dang, she really needed to stop falling for Eld’s shit. Wait. Eld. The fire flickered to life.

“Eld!” She looked at him with wonder, her eyes sparkling.

Alarmed at her sudden change of energy, he hesitantly handed her a glass of wine, “…yeah?”

“I need your help.”

“I just told you I’m not actually a sommelier.” He sipped his wine and sat at the table, swilling it around the glass dramatically, “Hmm a rich, intense flavour of alcohol, combined with the fruity, mellow notes of old grapes. Five out of ten, I’ve had better.”

Petra quirked a brow, and came to join him at the table, “I thought you said you _weren’t_ a sommelier?”

He chuckled, “I guess anyone who drinks it _can_ critique it. Really though, what do you need my help with? You’re already the Captain’s favourite after a single day’s training, I should be asking you for pointers.”

“Hah - hardly.”

His _favourite_? Oh god. The blood was uncontrollably rushing to her cheeks, she really hoped it wasn’t visible. That wasn’t - no - that wasn’t what his praise meant. Besides Captain Levi didn’t have favourites. He barely had expressions. Her thought process had been thoroughly derailed, far too derailed for such an offhand comment. _Focus Ral!_ All of this was beyond the point and nothing to do with what she needed to ask.

Ok. She collected herself and took a deep breath in.

Asking Eld was a good idea, surely. She couldn’t do it on her own, he was the right person to ask. He was the only person to ask really.

“Right. So. Oh god this sounds so stupid now I’m saying it out loud.” She cleared her throat, “an arm wrestle. I have to arm wrestle Captain Levi.”

Eld blinked in shock, “What? That’s a weird addition to the contract - none of us had to do that.”

“No!” She spluttered, “I - my old squad, my friends on my old squad dared me. And - uh - you seem like the type of guy who appreciates the sanctity of truth or dare.”

“You’re not wrong there.”

“Right. So, I have until the end of this week to arm wrestle him in the mess hall where they can watch it.”

This was the stupidest thing. Why did she agree to it again? Eld had to think she was a complete idiot. A dumb, childish game and she’d gone along with it gleefully. Or at least, she hadn’t protested _nearly_ enough. Maybe she should have just tongued Oruo, it would have been easier to achieve. And probably less awkward.

Eld hadn’t said anything for a while. His brow was furrowed and he was stroking his chin and looking into the fire.

“Be honest.” She swallowed, “Is it even going to be possible? He’s so cagey…and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in the mess hall. The thing is, if I _can’t_ do it I’ll have to clean and oil Hannah’s gear for a month on top of all the other new stuff I have-”

“You’re right. It won’t be easy. The Captain is averse to any fun or games, and he eats in his office.”

Petra’s head fell into her hand, “Damn…”

“That said, I think I might be able to get him to the mess hall at lunch time on Friday.”

Petra slowly looked up from her hands, eyes wide, “What, really?”

“Yeah.” He took a large sip and looked at her, his eyes twinkling mischievously, “But my help isn’t free.”


	9. Chapter 9

**The New and Improved Special Ops Squad - Week One - Wednesday** ****

It absolutely was not possible for someone’s body to ache this much. It was unreasonable, unfair and _definitely_ not normal. She’d have to go to the doctor just to make sure she didn’t have some kind of underlying illness causing these stabbing pains in all her muscles: ‘ _Pathetic-weak-bitch-itis’_ or something. She didn’t know how many more days in a row she could get up feeling like she’d been trampled by a thousand horses the day beforehand, and she half expected to see a hospital ward around her when she’d woken up this morning.

Perhaps she was being a little dramatic.

Still, it was a shame that this exhaustion was causing her to struggle to get up early enough to make everyone coffee, something she really wanted to continue doing for the squad. She’d only just managed to get in there today before anyone else, and she was sure she could hear someone stirring down the hall.

Petra loved making other people happy, and the way her squad mates had reacted to their coffee mornings the past two days she knew she was heading in the right direction. Though, she’d yet to see the Captain at them, which she felt a little down about.

He was a part of the squad too, it would be nice if he joined them. Maybe he felt awkward joining them as their superior officer. Maybe he thought they should spend their down time together without him. The thought made her heart sink. She had never liked the idea of someone being lonely while others enjoyed company. Though, if it were true that that he was only seen when he wanted to be, as she’d thought before, then maybe he just didn’t _want_ to spend time with them.

She hoped she was wrong about that.

It had only been three days, there was still time for him to show up.

She’d also noticed the past couple of days, that none of the squad were used to spending time together outside of working hours. They were never together at lunch; Eld went off to sit with Anna’s squad, Gunther had been sitting with James, and she hadn’t yet seen Oruo in the mess hall at all, he had been taking himself off to god knows where as soon as they were dismissed from drills.

If she were being honest though, she couldn’t judge any of them, she’d still been spending a lot of her own free time with her ex-squad mates. She’d even spent Tuesday evening with them in her old dorm room; it just felt easier to moan about her aches and pains to them; her new squad would (quite rightly) have no sympathy and just tell her to suck it up. Plus Jules gave amazing shoulder massages.

The coffee pot began to bubble, steam and sputter so she took it off the heat. It sure was nice to have a mini-kitchen and common room, not to mention her own private dorm room. She could make dinner for everyone - maybe that would be a nice thing to do, and it might force them to socialise…she had to go into town later for Eld anyway, she could get ingredients then.

“Morning.” Gunther’s low voice rumbled from behind her.

“Oh Gunther! Good morning.” She busied herself pouring out his coffee. Black, just like Eld’s, nice and easy to remember.

“Thanks.” He murmured as she brought it to the table where he’d sat, paper in front of him, though he was staring out of the window.

She returned to the kitchenette, to pour her own drink, stirring in a drop of milk and washing the spoon in the sink immediately. She’d learned quickly that you didn’t leave _anything_ lying about in these living quarters, especially anything that had been used for any kind of purpose, and yes it was _that_ vague an instruction. There was something cute about the diligence of it all.

“Gunther, what would you say to me making the squad dinner here tonight?” She asked lightly.

“Hm?” He turned to face her, it seemed he’d been in somewhat of a daze looking out through the morning light, “Why not. Can you cook?”

She laughed and answered dryly, “Nope, I’ve never so much as chopped an onion - you don’t mind if I practice on you guys though right? A bit of food poisoning never killed anyone.”

He merely blinked at her, and she was completely unsure if he’d read her tone.

“I’m kidding. I cooked a bit at home for my parents. I could do a hot pot or something? It’s good for a cold day.”

Gunther smiled slightly, “Anything’s better than the garbage they serve at the mess hall. A change of menu would be nice.”

She beamed, “Great! I’ll go pick up ingredients after the run this afternoon.”

Petra moved to lean on the kitchen counter, following Gunther’s gaze which had returned to the window. She had an inkling of what he might be thinking about.

“How was your evening yesterday?”

She’d asked it cautiously, as they both knew he’d spent it with James.

This was playing a bit of a dangerous game, and it could go either way. She didn’t want to pry _too_ much…but she was extremely curious, particularly after having spoken to James several times since their first mess-hall chat, and seeing as she’d acted as a messenger for them both on more than one occasion.

She was a good, trustworthy messenger. She’d never read their love-notes. But, she considered, her trustworthiness could be repaid…

He glanced back at her, his hard features easing slightly, then his eyes moved down to the floor, a slight pink hue painting his cheeks. Her heart melted instantly seeing such a serious, strong guy react to her question so tenderly. She was his squad mate and he could trust her; she was trying to communicate it with her eyes, though he wasn’t looking.

Ultimately they all had to trust each other if they wanted their unit to survive beyond the walls.

He clearly wasn’t ready to share with her yet. It was foolish to ask, they’d only been squad mates for two full days. She could always ask again when they returned from their first expedition.

She put her coffee down on the counter, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything-”

“No.” He mumbled gruffly, downing his coffee, “No, it’s fine. Thank you for asking. My evening was…” He looked back towards her sincerely, “Wonderful.”

On catching the dancing joy in his normally hard gaze she could have cried with happiness, in fact, she was certain that she would have, if Oruo hadn’t bowled into the room at that exact moment.

“Pfft. Eld is _still_ in the shower. He definitely heard me going towards the bathroom and then ran in out of spite. The little bitch.”

Petra silently handed him a coffee, eyebrows raised. He took it without so much as a thank you and flopped onto the sofa moodily.

“I’m sure he’ll be out soon, there’s no need to be so crabby about it.” She said, washing her finished cup in the sink.

“You _would_ say that Petra, you’ve only been on the squad two days. _I’ve_ had six months of his bullshit.”

“If you’re looking for sympathy from me, you aren’t going to get it.”

She’d forgotten how much of a man-child he could be sometimes.

“Did you know it’s the Night of the Wraiths tomorrow?” Gunther said suddenly, holding up the paper and looking directly at her, “When you go in to town later Petra, would you mind picking up a gourd?”

She smiled; it was strangely sweet that Gunther followed that old tradition, “Sure.”

“What are you, _four_? Shall I pick up a costume for you as well?” Oruo barked from the couch, “Then we can all hold hands and prance about in a circle. What do you think Captain Levi will say when-”

“Shut _up_ Oruo! _I_ think it’s a nice tradition.” Petra smiled at Gunther who looked appreciative, “Why don’t you do something useful for a change and help Gunther carve the gourd later while I make us hot pot.”

“Alright _mother_.”

_Ugh._

Gunther abruptly stood from his chair and smacked Oruo on the head with the rolled up paper, before walking out of the room, curtly nodding to Petra as he left.

“Ow - shit.” Oruo groaned, rubbing his head.

Petra grinned.

********************

It was lightly drizzling, the bright sky of the morning had since been overthrown by a mass of grey clouds.

Eld steeled himself, the afternoon run was proving difficult. They were under orders not to say a word unless it was absolutely unavoidable.

Not only that, but they were essentially flying blind, the Captain had instructed them to complete the run staggered, and he hadn’t given them a formation. There was logic to it, the team would be forced to pay attention to one another and not rely on any kind of pre-formed plan, which was actually what usually happened beyond the wall. Formations were good for practice, but he found that they’d used them less than thirty percent of the time in combat on expeditions. You just never knew where you’d find yourself.

Through the speeding tree trunks, two titan dummies appeared. A three metre and a four metre. He turned all the way around, flying backwards towards the targets, but he couldn’t spot a single member of the team. Crud.

If he had to take them alone, then he had to take them alone. He turned back. The four metre was being operated more erratically, and was therefore the bigger threat at this point in time. He slowed down and began moving around the periphery of the wooden dummies. This was going to need some planning; diving in without assessing the situation at all almost certainly led to death (in the field anyway), especially if you were outnumbered like this.

He cruised around them, a silently as possible, before catching the glint of some wires on the opposite side of the two puppets. Petra. Sweet. She caught his eye, and he pointed at her and held up three fingers. They both nodded in mutual understanding; she would get the three-metre, he would get the four-metre.

A final nod confirmed their action and they both dove towards the dummies at speed. The drizzle splattered his face as he rushed towards the nape. The cool droplets were actually quite refreshing, though they were making gripping the gear a little slippery.

As he fast approached, readying his blades, he heard a whooshing, and from the corner of his eye a blurred shape raced into view. Fuck - fuck. His heart was in his mouth as he instantly stopped, flipping in the air and blasting himself back towards the upper branches. What the hell was that?

Oruo. Of fucking course. The idiot had pelted in, not looking around at all and gone straight for the nape. If Eld weren’t under strict orders to be silent unless it was an emergency, he would have screamed at him. He’d just had to waste so much gas to halt his attack at the last second, not to mention if he hadn’t stopped Oruo might have lost his head; which was ironic, as now Eld felt like he might lose his own. The fucking gall of that idiot.

A quick scan of the space showed Petra had taken out her dummy. At least something had gone to plan.

He had to try and calm down. It did no good beyond the wall to lose your cool at a fellow soldier, even if they were the biggest jackass in the universe. He glared at Oruo, who glanced up at him with nonchalance.

He snorted angrily and loudly, sure that Oruo heard it, then continued onwards through the trees on the tail of Petra who'd gone on ahead.

Heavy rain would mean stopping and waiting it out in the higher branches or supply shacks, but this rain was light enough that they still had to continue the exercise. That didn’t stop it from bringing down visibility though. Man, he hated drizzle. From her position in front, Petra looked back and held up her hand, indicating a single target coming up. Eld motioned leftwards with his head, instructing her to go around, and once again she nodded in understanding, taking herself off in that direction as the eight-metre puppet appeared in the near distance.

He couldn’t believe he’d ever been concerned about her as a prospective member. The Captain had been so right about her. Even after she’d been struggling her way through the morning drills on the verge of collapse, she was still _easily_ the most reliable member of the team out on the run. Before she joined it was like they were trying to bake a cake without any sugar.

Once again he slowed his pace, glancing behind at Oruo with a look of warning, then pointed out to the right, hoping Oruo would catch his drift, which, thank the walls he did, apathetically taking himself out to the other side of the target.

Ok. He took a breath in. Just as he was about to instruct the pair of them however, the Captain blazed past him from behind, diving under the dummy’s arm. Holy balls; that was an odd choice. Hadn’t he seen the positions of his team?

The Captain went to cycle back around over the top, towards the nape, but as he did so, there was a harsh sort-of squealing noise and he juddered to a halt, dangling and swaying slightly right above the dummy titan’s head. He hung in the air silently, his face down and his wet hair plastered to his cheeks, completely covering his eyes.

He was out of gas. And he wasn’t moving.

The titan puppet was moving though, and Eld realised that they had about five seconds to do something. Fuck it, he’d have to shout;

“Oruo, Petra, arms!”

They did as he requested, though both of them had a slight look of panic about them. He stalled in place until they’d _just_ managed to hack off the wooden arms before accelerating towards the Captain and yanking him out of his rag-doll position.

He’d had to move so quickly that he’d grabbed the Captain in an awkward half grip, and it certainly wasn’t helping that Levi did nothing, choosing to remain a dead weight in Eld’s slipping arms. God damn he was a lot heavier than he looked. Did it really have to be raining right now? This wasn’t even _real_ rain. Fucking pointless half-rain.

“Eld!” Gunther shouted, speeding through the trees and they locked eyes. Good timing. Gunther was in a better position to take the Captain; he could probably get a better grip on carrying him from the angle he was at.

Eld nodded at him and slowly loosened his grip on his cargo (otherwise known as his boss) as Gunther came up from below, effortlessly taking the still-silent and limp Captain in his arms, bridal style.

“Regroup in the higher branches.” Eld called out.

“No.” The Captain didn’t move, or even open his eyes. The four members of the squad stopped frozen, hanging in the air with varying expressions of shock.

“Finish the course.” He said simply.

“Like this?!” Gunther queried, looking down to the man in his arms but receiving no response.

Rats. Of course it was a test! No way would the Captain have been so reckless otherwise, the sly bastard.

Eld cleared his throat, “You heard him. Let’s finish the course. We’ll take turns carrying the Captain until we reach the end platform.”

It certainly wasn’t easy navigating the remainder of the course with one dead weight, though (he joked to himself) they should have been used to it with Oruo on the team. Occasionally they’d have to stop on a wide branch and pass Captain Levi over to the next member of the squad. Whoever was with him had to hang back and make their way as high up as they could while the team took out targets, and they could only progress down the route once each section had been completely declared safe. It was a ball-ache.

Eld also made sure that Petra wasn’t ever carrying the Captain, his own judgement call. He hoped he wouldn’t get criticised for it, but, having carried the man himself, it just didn’t seem that feasible that she’d make it very far holding him. Part of solid leadership was in delegating the skills of each member…brute strength was _not_ Petra’s skill.

Though difficult and annoying, he had to admit this exercise was a smart move; the team were being forced to communicate and rely on one another in a way that was a lot more immediate than usual, they didn’t have the Captain to fall back on, and nearly every three-person-combination of the squad had the opportunity to work as a group on dispatch. They were getting more of a feel for each members’ strengths.

In time, they reached the end platform, just as the drizzling stopped and the sun began to set. Only _they_ could be so lucky that it rained the whole afternoon until the second they finished their training. It had been a slow run, much longer than any normal zip through the trees, and every member of the team was soaking almost as much from sweat as from the pathetic rain.

Oruo went to put the Captain down, hesitating ever so slightly as no-one was quite sure when this dead-weight act was going to end. Fortunately, the Captain put his feet on the ground and stood, taking a step away from them and smoothing the creases from his cape.

He surveyed his drenched, exhausted squad.

“What’s wrong? Was it not as fun as usual?” He remarked dryly.

The four of them were stood in a shaky line, feeling sorry for themselves.

“I’m only going to tell you this once, so listen up. When we run the courses for the next two weeks, at least one of you will be low on gas, and I’m not going to tell you who.”

Oh boy.

“Be prepared. And after that performance, you’d better hope that none of you die outside the walls, because your bodies will _not_ make it back home. All of you go take a shower, you stink like shit. Dismissed.”

********************

The evening air was chilly, and Petra was struggling, her arms piled up with with three paper bags of various shopping. Training was just so intense and a part of her was kicking herself that she’d agreed to cook this evening too. And she _still_ hadn’t had a shower. She’d sleep well tonight at the very least.

It was probably in her head, but it seemed that everyone she’d encountered in town was looking at her regretfully, like they felt bad for her. She must have looked like a real sad-sack. Or maybe they could just smell her.

She approached the main doors to the barracks building. So close. She knew she made a good hot-pot even if she did say so herself; Gunther was right, it would be nice to have something for dinner that had actually been seasoned.

As she walked towards the doors, they opened as if by magic, revealing Clara.

On seeing Petra, she stopped dead. For a second the two women just stared at one another.

“S-Squad leader. Hi.” Petra eventually mustered.

Well this was awkward. And not exactly how she’d planned to see to Clara for the first time after leaving the squad. Thoughts began whirling. Clara might have tried to sabotage her transfer. She’d put Petra on a full day’s chores on her last ever day with her squad.

 _Stop it._

It was a waste of time to stay upset with someone when you worked as scouts. It just was. Besides, it was within Clara’s jurisdiction to punish her however she saw fit, and other than that the only thing she _knew_ Clara had done was take the squad out on the town without her…which hurt a little, but was ultimately fine, Petra was leaving anyway.

“Petra.” Clara said shortly, before swiftly passing by her and not giving her another look.

“Wait, Clara - uh - sir.” Petra span around, nearly dropping one of her bags.

Clara stopped, but didn’t look back.

“I - I…um.”

“What do you want Ral? Some of us have work to do.”

Petra looked at her feet, and pursed her lips. She could do this. She would make peace.

“I just wanted to say thank you. I learned a lot from you when you were my squad leader, and I’m glad we got to work together when we did.”

There was a pause.

“Get your tongue out of my ass Ral.”

Petra could feel the heat rising in her face. Clara turned and looked her directly in the eye.

“And if you were going to apologise for leaving the squad, don’t bother. I don’t need to hear it.”

“I wasn’t-”

“It’s funny, I never had you pegged as the selfish type, but I suppose anyone’s ego can be buttered-up by the higher-ups.”

She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t going to cry. _Fuck_ this.

Her voice grew louder, “That’s _hardly_ fair, sir. You-”

“My duty as a squad leader is to protect my soldiers. You have made my job _exponentially_ harder. Did you think you could just up and leave over the period of two days and it wouldn’t affect anything?”

Petra was stressfully fumbling with her bags, but her eyes remained glued to Clara, “It wasn’t my _choice_ to-”

“I wanted to extend your transfer period, at least until we could find someone to replace you in our squad, but the Commander denied my request. As I see it, I won’t be able to prevent the deaths that come about from my squad being underprepared on the next expedition. I’m stuck with the mess you’ve left behind. And now you want me to stand here and congratulate you on your promotion? To fondly reminisce about old times with you? You’re a selfish _child_ , Petra.” 

With that Clara forcibly strode off leaving her dumbstruck.

Holy fucking lord above.

She was shaking again, but this time it wasn’t because her muscles were tired.

Fuck. Fuck.

_Get it together Ral!_

Fuck. Fucking _shitting_ \- even her mantra wasn’t working. She turned and stumbled through the doors to the barracks, swiftly dropping all three bags onto the floor. Her eyes burned with tears but she schooled them, scrambling across the ground to pick up various leeks and swedes that had rolled out of them. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Fully repacked, she burdened herself with the bags once more, and began stumbling towards their quarters.

That was…she had no words. Her thoughts weren’t arriving coherently, or even in sentence form. And the worst thing about it, was that somewhere, swirling amid the various curses and put-downs her brain was directing at Clara, she knew that it was true. Petra _hadn’t_ really considered what she was leaving behind, not practically. She’d worried about missing her friends, about her friends missing her…but she’d never considered that her leaving might make their jobs more difficult…more dangerous.

Fuck she was so fucking selfish.

Her eyes brimmed as she walked into their barracks and into the kitchenette, where she dumped the bags onto the counter.

“What is _up_ booster-se…Petra?” Eld, seeing something was wrong, came scurrying over to her, “Hey, are you alright?”

Her eyes were already filling with tears, and his concern tipped them over the edge and down her cheeks. Mother _fucker_. She _really_ didn’t want to cry. She put her hands over her face and took some deep breaths. 

“P-Petra?” It was Oruo’s voice she heard now.

Great. Just great. What smart comment would he have for her this time? “ _Don’t cry Ma!”_ Or “ _What’s wrong? Did you catch your reflection in the mirror?”_ Or something equally stupid.

After a few moments, a warm hand was placed on her shoulder. Following a few more deep breaths, and when she was sure she wouldn’t cry _more_ , she slowly took her hands away from her face.

Her three squad mates were practically huddled around her, looking down at her with fierce worry.

“I’m, uh, gonna make us some tea.” Oruo remarked awkwardly, before removing himself from the small cluster, and busying himself around them with pots, cups and water. They each watched him for a moment, it seemed they were all surprised by it.

“Petra, what happened?” Eld asked gently, and Gunther lightly squeezed her shoulder.

She sniffed, “Nothing - really. I’m just being…” She took another long breath in, “I ran into my previous squad leader.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…I guess I hadn’t thought about what I was leaving behind.”

“Do you regret joining us?” Gunther’s frown was quite pronounced.

“What? No, of course I don’t - I didn’t mean _that_. I only wanted to tell her thank you - that I appreciated her being my squad leader…but she was so angry with me.” She shook her head, “And she has every right to be. I left them high and dry - I didn’t even think about how this might affect them.” She sniffed, “She said she wasn’t sure she’d have time to prepare them for the next expedition…that she was worried they’d die.”

Oruo dropped a cup and it shattered.

“What?” Gunther looked raging.

Eld was similarly furious, “That is so _fucked_ _up_. Petra, she’s a squad leader. It’s her _job_ to deal with shit like that. Fuck _me_.”

“But it’s true, I _didn’t_ think about-” She sniffled.

“No, man - put those puppy dog eyes away, she doesn’t deserve them.”

“Has she never had to deal with a transfer before? Squads change.” Gunther growled.

Petra was retreating inwards, she spoke quietly.

“What if it happens though? And they…die because they weren’t used to the changes? Because I left them too quickly…”

“Petra, look at me.” Eld put his hand on her other shoulder, and the two men leant in slightly, trying to drag her out of her spiral and back into the room, “Anyone who dies beyond the wall, dies because of titans. _Titans_. Nothing you say or do has any effect on whether or not a titan will try to eat someone. You cannot control that. Believe me, Section Commander Hange has tried.”

“Life’s hard enough as it is without taking the blame for things you have no power over.” Gunther agreed.

She blinked and gazed up at them, the traces of tears shining in her honey-brown eyes.

Eld continued, “Don’t beat yourself up. You made the decision that was right for you, that’s the best you can do in this hell-hole.”

“Right. The Captain is always telling us that there’s no point in regretting the choices we made because no-one knows how things will turn out in the end.” Gunther said firmly.

She stared at them both for a moment in grateful wonder. They were being so…kind. Her guilt about her ex-squad remained thrashing in the pit of her stomach, but it had been significantly eroded and largely replaced with a feeling of warmth and safety; that what they were saying was right, and, perhaps more importantly, they wanted her to be ok. She never would have thought it had only been a week since she first met them at the athletics track that foggy morning. Her opinion of them had already changed exponentially since then.

“Thank you.”

Eld gave her a pat on the arm, “Now go and shower - quickly - before the Captain gets back. And _don’t worry_.”

She nodded and rushed out the door.

“Wait no-” Oruo moaned, “I just finished making tea…”

********************

Levi stopped outside the front door to their quarters and wrinkled his nose. Was he losing his mind, or did it smell like…onions? He looked at the door suspiciously. Should he be concerned?

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when he walked into the common room.

The whole room had a kind of golden glow: the fire was blazing in the hearth, Petra was stood by some large pots in the kitchenette, stirring and throwing in pinches of god knows what, Eld and Oruo were peeling a variety of potatoes and carrots at the counter, and Gunther was sat at the table with a knife and a large…very strangely shaped vegetable. It was a regular carnival.

“The hell’s going on here.” He said bluntly, and they all looked up.

Petra beamed, “Oh, Captain, Hi! We’re making hot-pot for dinner.”

He stared at her a moment. The whole kitchen scene was like some fucked-up portrait of domestic bliss, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. His legs carried him against his will to sit opposite Gunther at the table.

Were those…flowers…on the countertop?

“Hey - get your own carrot! Or better yet, go and help Gunther carve the gourd, that was your main job anyway.” Eld snapped.

“GOURD CARVING ISN’T A TWO MAN JOB.” Oruo shouted back.

“Actually,” Petra turned to the pair with a knowing look, wooden spoon held up sassily, “I bought one for you too - check the bag. I figured if any evil spirits came searching for vengeance, you’d be the first one they’d visit.”

Eld cackled, “High-five half-pint!”

Eld and Petra high-fived, and Oruo took the bag from the counter, grumbling something under his breath, and came to sit at the table by Levi and Gunther.

Levi wondered at what point he’d moved into a hippie commune. Titans didn’t scare him, but his own squad was starting to, and they would be his only company beyond the walls.

“Don’t look so down Captain, you can help me carve my gourd if you want.” Oruo muttered, removing another strangely shaped vegetable from the bag he had, “I think you’ll enjoy it, it’s mostly stabbing.”

Apparently he’d now decided that gourd carving _could_ be a two man job.

“So. What is all this shit?” Levi asked gesturing vaguely at the tabletop.

“Do you know about the Night of the Wraiths Captain?” Gunther ventured, and when Levi looked at him blankly, continued, “It’s once a year in autumn. Like a festival of spirits. The story goes that bad, vengeful spirits arise at dusk and enter through the windows to terrorise those who wronged them. But if you carve three rings on a gourd, each ring representing one of the three walls, and place it in your window, then the spirits don’t bother you.”

Levi blinked, “And this happens tonight.”

“No, it’s tomorrow sir, we’re just getting our gourds ready.”

He leant back in his seat, resting an arm along the back of the adjacent chair, “You all believe in this bullcrap?”

Petra giggled, “It’s more that it’s a fun tradition sir.”

“And sometimes we pull pranks on each other and blame it on the wraiths.” Eld added, eyes gleaming impishly.

Wait a minute. Was that was Erwin was doing last year when he was dressed up in that stupid ‘ghost’ outfit and said he was going to pay Nile a visit?

Or what Hange was doing when they replaced all Moblit’s tea leaves with regular leaves?

That second one was just cruel.

Levi began to wonder if humanity was really worth saving.

Oruo was sticking his tongue out in concentration, attempting to carve a line in his gourd but making a right mess of it, “It’s funny that you haven’t come across it before Captain.”

“Hilarious.” Levi deadpanned.

He pondered if the Night of the Wraiths had anything to do with when the underground folk were sometimes granted permits to walk the streets above ground.

He stood from his chair, and began walking for the door.

“Captain…aren’t you joining us for dinner?”

He stopped and looked Petra in her big stupid doe eyes. What, did she think having big cute eyes would make people do whatever she wanted? Tch.

“Not hungry.”

“Oh.”

Her face fell and his stomach dropped.

“Well, if you change your mind sir.”

Shit, did he actually feel bad about this?

He realised he’d been stood staring at her blankly, like a brainless fucking moron.

He walked out without another word.


	10. Chapter 10

**The New and Improved Special Ops Squad - Week One - Thursday**

**‘The Night of the Wraiths’** ****

For the whole morning Petra had wanted to slap herself in the face. For some unknown goddamn reason, all of the men in the squad had turned up to sparring practice in the little gym today wearing tight black vest tops. Petra herself wasn’t wearing a vest top, but she was in _vest_ ed…in her own way.

There was almost a dramatic unveiling as they each removed their scouts jackets, and stood in a line, like a gallery of famous topless statues. They _weren’t_ topless - but they might as well have been, not much was left to the imagination there.

Was ‘vest day’ on the schedule? Or was it a group ‘Night of the Wraiths’ costume attempt? If so…what in the hell were they meant to be - some kind of sexy gang? Did she not get the memo?

The worst thing about it was just how _shredded_ they all were. She wasn’t attracted to any of them normally, _of course_ , but she’d be damned if she wasn’t peeking a little. Or a lot.

Dang. There was a lot of bicep.

The scout’s regular uniform meant that apart from general build and height, you couldn’t really tell much about anyone’s physique, which was a good thing, or military horniness would be through the roof.

She should be happy for this golden opportunity to practice good focus, though if there had been an assessment in that area, at least based on today’s work, she would be bottom of the class. And thriving.

Then there was the fact that the Captain, once again for an extremely unknown reason, had said that during Thursday mornings’ hand to hand combat, she would be working solely with him.

Ok the reason wasn’t _actually_ unknown, he’d said it was because she _“sucked ass”_ at sparring (she was in no position to argue), and therefore she needed to be fast-tracked.

“Petra, do you _want_ to be kicked over?”

He stared at her with his regular bored expression.

“…was that a rhetorical question sir?”

None of his features changed, but she could tell he had gotten even more apathetic.

“Always keep your legs slightly bent.” He lightly tapped the backs of her knees with his foot and they bent a little, “That keeps your leg muscles active. If your muscles are active, they can be engaged.”

“Traditional fighting stance, sir.”

“So you _do_ know what it is. Then why the hell don’t you use it half the time?”

Petra’s face pressed into a frown and she looked at the floor, “Uh…”

“That was a rhetorical question.”

She grimaced. She couldn’t tell what was more humiliating, the fact that he’d been relentlessly toppling her to the ground for the best part of the morning, or his snide remarks between each bout. It didn’t help of course that on occasion she’d catch the light bounce perfectly across the outline of his abs in the tight vest. So small yet so ripped. Everything about this man had to be seen to be believed. She was yet to land a single hit on him, which she wasn’t surprised by, but she also wasn’t mentally prepared to feel so crappy about it either.

“Again.” He ordered, and they resumed their stance.

Petra rushed in with a right jab, but he was much faster. He brought his left arm up on the inside of her arm, parrying her right hook and grabbed her left arm with his other hand, yanking her towards him so they were face to face, their noses almost touching, where he held her for a split second before kneeing her in the stomach and pushing her to the ground.

Oof. She was coughing and had to resist the urge to spit. She’d definitely been winded that time. She remained on all fours a while, trying to suck air back into her body.

“Up.” He commanded, rewrapping the sparring bandage round one of his hands.

At this point, it almost felt like he wasn’t trying to teach her at all. That he was just showing off. She drew air in and tried to calm her mind. Her biggest strengths were speed and evasiveness. Maybe if instead of trying to land hits on him, she dodged him a while and then tried to find an opening that way…maybe…

It would almost certainly prove ineffective, but she was running out of things to try.

“Petra, get up.”

“Yes Captain.” She dragged herself to her feet.

“Again.”

This time she waited for him to make the first move. _Knees bent._ They circled each other.

“Hm.” He breathed, seemingly realising that she wasn’t going to move first and she caught his eye, goading him, which, in retrospect, may not have been a sensible thing to do.

He dashed at her, his right leg coming up fast towards her left leg, but she’d had just enough warning and jumped over it. His kick had put his back to her, which she used to her advantage to pull an arm around his neck. Oh lord he was strong. In a heartbeat, he’d somehow loosened her grip on his neck, spinning back towards her and forcefully flipping her forwards over his shoulder and letting her go. She landed in a kind of crouch, wobbling on her feet. Yes! At least she hadn’t fallen the hell over. She shakily stood.

Her tiny victory was all but snatched away as he instantly appeared behind her and twisted both her arms behind her back.

“Ow fffuck.”

He released her, giving her a slight push forward to put some distance back between them. She shook her arms out. If he’d twisted them any further she was sure something would have popped.

It was kind of terrifying to learn just how easy it was for him to break things.

“Again.”

The morning ebbed into midday, and she still hadn’t so much as grazed him. Once again she was entirely unsure if anything she was doing was any good. Her evasive techniques _did_ help in that when she focused on dodging she tended to last more than three seconds into the bout, but as soon as she lost any visual of him, it was over.

By the end of the morning’s work Petra was a haggard and sweaty mess, but the Captain remained pristine, not a hair out of place.

“Alright, we’re done for now.” He said finally, turning to the room, “All of you, at ease.”

Eld caught her eye and motioned with his head and she made her way over to the trio.

“Like something you see, Petra?” Oruo said smarmily, flexing an arm and lunging.

“You wish asshole.” She retorted, earning some chuckles from Eld and Gunther.

“Pfft. I’ll have you know that these guns have _normal_ women falling over each other.”

“Yeah, as they try to run away from you.”

“Damn!” Eld laughed, removing his wrist wraps.

Oruo angrily huffed.

“How was sparring with the Captain?” Gunther asked.

Petra gave a cocky smile, “I mean…would you believe me if I told you I won every bout?”

The three men practically fell about laughing.

“I’ll take that as a no then.” 

“Did you win any?” He prodded.

“ _God_ no. Of course I didn’t! He’s like a damn shadow - but, if the shadow was-”

“Was what?” The Captain had appeared behind her, because of course he had.

“Uhh…” She faltered, searching the eyes of all her squad mates, begging them for help. They were naturally trying (and in some cases failing: _Eld_ ) to stifle their amusement. Oruo’s _‘karma’s a bitch’_ expression was particularly irritating.

“Was what Petra.”

“…was very very fast - on wheels or something. I was just saying you’re wheely good at sparring Captain.” Her eyes widened, “I mean _really_ good! Oh - oh my…”

Sweet lord.

She threw her hands over her face. _Why?_ Somebody throw a sack over her and drag her away.

The Captain’s eyebrows twitched up a touch, “No, keep going. You’re on a roll.”

Getting shot in the face would have been less painful than this.

Eld was just openly laughing now, and the other two weren’t doing much better.

The Captain turned to leave, “Go and get lunch. Gunther I’ll see you at half past for your performance review.”

He exited the gym, the void left by his presence immediately filled with noisy guffawing.

“Keep all flammables away from Petra’s face guys, she’s burning up.” Eld quipped.

Gunther approached her with a sympathetic pat, “See you in the afternoon, Red.” Before throwing on his jacket and leaving.

Oruo sneered, “Serves you right. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before insulting my sweet guns.”

Petra didn’t know it was possible to roll her eyes as far back as she just had.

“Oruo,” Eld interjected with a sly grin, “Have you got my winnings?”

Oruo grunted and fetched his jacket, pulling a few coins out and pouring them into Eld’s hand.

“Cheers.” Eld continued, not taking his eyes off of Oruo, “Hey, Petra, I got that cash I owe ya.” He winked and handed her the money Oruo had just given him.

Oruo scowled.

“Hey - uh - where are you off to for lunch?” She needed to ask him, but was also genuinely interested, having never seen him around at all; he was such a loudmouth that it was strange he hadn’t blabbed to any of them about his ventures.

“Wouldn’t _you_ like to know. I’d _love_ to share, of course, except that it’s none of your damn business.”

With that he swaggered out the door, leaving a baffled Petra and Eld behind. 

“Right.” Eld started, “Well. I guess we’re good as long as he doesn’t spend the whole lunch break in his room.”

“Yeah. Has he never told you guys where he goes?”

“No, though I’m pretty sure none of us have ever asked him.”

They gathered their jackets and exited the gym.

********************

Eld met Anna in the Library and she handed him the note, which he read over a few times.

“It’s…I mean…wow. You’ve done a great job, it’s perfect.” He uttered, turning the paper over in his hands a few times, “Where’d you learn to do that?”

Anna tapped her nose, “Trick of the trade buddy.”

Man she was cute. And talented. He’d be willing to bet that _any_ scout (except maybe the Commander) would think this note was actually written by the Captain. The immaculate lettering was identical.

The Captain had spent a serious amount of time teaching himself to write properly since he’d joined the military; he hadn’t received any kind of formal education in his youth at all, but he more than made up for it with the work he’d put in copying out letters since his promotion. The result being that his writing was flawless, it looked like newspaper print; a perfect reflection of his need for, well, perfection.

Eld shook his head in disbelief at the forgery he now held, “How can I thank you?”

Anna gave a sassy smile, “There’s always rounds at the pub.”

He quirked an eyebrow, “You sure that’s all you want? I mean I _owe_ you. Don’t know if you’ve heard, but that’s kind of a big deal.” He leant across the table she was sat at to write, resting his chin in his hand, and looking directly at her, “Do you like pie?”

Anna flushed slightly but her face fell, “Oh…Eld,” she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, “I’m flattered and all, I really am.” She swallowed, “but…uh. It’s just - there’s someone I…and I mean I really appreciate your friendship…” Her light chestnut eyes flicked back towards him remorsefully.

Damn, did he just strike out?

Bummer.

He removed himself from the table and coughed, “Uh, no, I mean, that’s cool. Not everyone likes pie I guess…” He laughed awkwardly, “A round at the pub it is.”

“I’m sorry that uh-”

“What? No. No man, you don’t have to be sorry, it’s - it’s honestly fine.” He held his hand up, “Forgery-five?”

She smiled widely and genuinely, hitting his hand, “forgery-five.”

Well, nuts. You can’t win them all.

It wasn’t long before he was waiting by a corner in a corridor in the main office building. He was sure this was the right place, but he had to get the timing right. A few minutes passed and the expected sounds of frantic shuffling were getting louder and louder.

Almost…

Almost…

And…

He turned the corner, smacking straight into Moblit, who yelped, flinging his multiple stacks of reports high into the air and they fluttered delicately around the two men in a gentle snowfall of documents.

“Argh dammit! So sorry I didn’t see you there. Here, let me help you with those.”

“E-Eld? - Thank you.”

They hurriedly busied themselves collecting up the paper chaos.

“How’s the band going? Still playing all those…instruments?”

Moblit looked up from his frenzied gathering, “Huh? Yeah lots of…instrument playing…It’s going well, we’re hoping one day soon we can play at the tavern. Though the Section Commander is being a maniac about it. They keep saying they want to test the effects of music on titans…”

“Hange? Didn’t know they played.”

“As far as I know they don’t, they just have a keen interest in absolutely everything.”

“Oh, man.” Eld chuckled, “The next thing you know we’ll be singing lullabies to the titans and tip-toeing past them to the supply bases.”

Moblit stopped and looked at Eld with true fear in his eyes, “Do me a favour and _never_ say anything like that around Hange.”

Eld picked up the final sheet of paper, which just so happened to be a certain note from ‘Captain Levi’, and handed it to him, and they both stood up.

“You got it.” Eld nodded as the sandy haired scout rushed off, “Moblit - make sure you take a break today!”

Ok, that part had gone to plan; he could tick it off his list. There was nothing he could do now but pray that worked out. Now, just one final stop to make before the lunch break was over.

********************

“ELD!!!!”

It was nearly impossible to tell apart the three voices that screamed it.

Petra was panicked and her heart was hammering. This wasn’t part of the plan! Maybe this is just what they all got for leaving their bedroom doors unlocked but…

She slammed out of her dorm room to see both Gunther and Oruo had done exactly the same. It was quite late; they had only just returned from the afternoon’s drilling horseback formations, and now they were all stood staring at one another in dumb shock in the corridor.

“He got you guys too?” Oruo cried out, grabbing and pulling at his hair, “He reversed my entire room!”

Wait, he what? That wasn’t what he’d told Petra he was-

“And that’s not _all!_ ” Oruo pulled a scrunched up letter from his pocket, “He left a comb for lice on my desk along with this stupid letter:

_‘Dear Oruo,_

_We don’t want to live in your greasy-ass hair anymore. Here is a comb you can use. Please kill us._

_Kind regards,_

_Your Head-lice.’_

Petra don’t you dare laugh!”

Petra had slapped her hand over her mouth, as if she could physically force the giggles back inside her body. That one she knew about; she’d bought the comb. But she'd also-

“You think that’s bad?” Gunther piped up, waving a book around, “He took all of my mage-saga novels and replaced them with a self-help book and this dumb limerick!” He cleared his throat, reading aloud:

_“‘There once was the nerdiest soldier,_

_Who gave the whole world the cold shoulder,_

_I took all his books,_

_And hid them in nooks,_

_And now he looks fifty years older!’_

That…that doesn’t even make _sense_.”

Oh _dang_ Eld. How much free time did he have _?_ He hadn’t told her about any pranks he was setting for Gunther let _alone_ -

“What he do to you?”

Gunther and Oruo were both staring intensely at her.

“I…I don’t want to say.”

She could feel her face heating up.

Oruo was exasperated, “Petra just tell us.”

“He - uh.” She couldn’t hide how disturbed she was, “He filled my room with stuffed animals.”

They continued to stare at her, a little less pissed off and a little more perplexed.

“They’re various woodland creatures and…” She was pulling at her sleeves, “…they’re wearing w-waistcoats.”

“Oh no.” Oruo, knowing the gravity of this situation, walked over to her, and looked back at Gunther sombrely, “It’s her biggest fear.”

Gunther seemed troubled, “Stuffed animals in waistcoats?”

“Any animals wearing human clothes.” Oruo answered frankly.

“Petra, your job is killing titans - that’s-”

“…there was a squirrel in a top hat.” Her voice was wobbly and quiet, almost a whisper, and Oruo rubbed her upper back in comforting circles. “How on earth did he find out that I hate that?”

Hold on.

She glared sharply at Oruo who, on noticing her glower, slowly brought his hand away from her back.

“What _me?_ Petra I would never! I swear! Do you really think I’d ever seriously tell that asshole _anything?_ ”

Gunther intervened, “Alright, alright. How he found out isn’t important right now. We need to find him and give him a piece of our minds.”

They simultaneously looked towards Eld’s door.

“I’ll handle this.” Gunther narrowed his eyes, “But be ready.”

Ah, Gunther the diplomat. This was getting good.

He approached the door, holding up a hand to the others, “Eld..?” He knocked a couple of times, “Eld? Are you in there? I just wanna talk…”

Silence.

Gunther glanced back at the others and knocked again, “…Eld?”

“This is a waste of time. I’m breaking the door in.” Oruo rocked up, throwing his jacket to the ground so he was back in just his vest and yelled through the door, “Hear that you bastard?! Get ready for the ass-kicking of a lifetime!”

Gunther nodded in agreement, stepping aside to give Oruo, the enforcer, space.

Petra had to admit that this was a little thrilling. As much as she didn’t want anyone to get hurt, and as much as she’d had a part to play in pranking Oruo, she had been genuinely terrified when she walked into her dorm room to see the array of fancily adorned stuffed toys. She shivered, remembering their posh little suits and decorated petticoats; their dry, dead fur; their soulless button eyes shining ever so slightly through the gloom of her room. Yep. Eld was going to pay for that one.

Oruo rushed the door with his shoulder and to everyone’s surprise it smashed open immediately and he crashed to the floor with a thud. Maybe they should have checked if it was unlocked first…

He sprang up instantly, even more furious than before and practically blasted into the room;

“Come out you motherfucker! I’ve killed titans, I can kill you!”

Petra and Gunther shared a look, before following him in, shouting:

“Eld you coward!!”

“Show yourself!”

The room was empty as it was dark. The window was open and the curtains blew about in the gentle evening breeze.

“Where the hell is he?” Oruo barked.

“Do you think he escaped through the window?” Gunther queried.

“Look - on the desk.” Petra pointed to a small note, just about visible in the darkness.

She picked it up and they all huddled around, squinting at it.

“Give it here.” Oruo snatched it from Petra’s hand, earning a miffed _‘hey’_ and held it nearer the window where the moonlight made the paper easier to read:

_‘Some scouts’ lives are more valuable than others…’_

“What the hell?” Gunther mumbled, “Anyone got any idea-”

“ARGHHHHHHH!”

The three shrieked and yelled, spinning around to see a shrouded figure approaching framed by the light from the doorway. The figure was hooded, draped in dark rags, with blood running down its arms. They fell about, squealing and scrambling over one another, backing towards the window, until Gunther stood up.

“Wait a minute - _ELD!_ ” He shouted.

The figure stopped in its evil tracks, its outstretched arm slowly redirecting its course to the hood on its head, and then pulling it down swiftly to reveal the blonde scout, practically crying with laughter.

“That’ll teach you to come into my room.” He managed, between gasps for air.

“Grrrr!” Oruo was up like a shot, and grabbed Eld by the neck and threw him against the wall, “What the hell do you think you’re playing at Jinn!”

“Gee whizz Oruo, buy a guy a drink first!” Eld choked out, “Man, you should have seen your faces.” He seemed entirely unfazed by Oruo’s hand gripping his throat and was struggling to keep himself together.

“Shut your damn mouth! What if one of us had died of a heart attack?”

“Hm.”

The room stilled.

“What’s all the commotion?”

Their eyes flicked to the doorway, to the shadow of a very short, very scary man.

Oh fuck.

Even silhouetted like this, it was clear what his expression was. And it was clear from Eld’s face that this was _not_ part of his plan.

The Captain swept his hand along the side of the door frame and moved it slowly away, rubbing some of the ‘blood’ substance Eld had used between his fingertips.

“So _this_ is the Survey Corp’s most elite team? You’re like a gaggle of shitty infants.” He paused, staring at them through the darkness. “Start by cleaning this up. Then get your asses to the common room.”

In a moment he was gone, leaving them strewn about the place in disarray. Yikes. Petra picked herself up from the floor, shut the window and dusted herself down as Gunther lit some candles, finally illuminating Eld’s dorm.

“Looks like your position as second may be in trouble.” Oruo taunted, releasing Eld from his grip against the wall, “Was that meant to be blood on your arms? Heh. It’s black, not sure if they taught you this in idiot school, but blood’s red.”

Eld scoffed, massaging his neck where Oruo’d grabbed him, “It’s black treacle. And tell that to your screaming self a minute ago; it seemed to do the trick in the low light.”

“I’ll knock your block off-”

“Both of you be quiet. Don’t make this worse.” Gunther scolded.

The four of them worked together in silence sulking, like reprimanded children, wiping up treacle and tidying Eld’s room before apprehensively making their way back out into the corridor.

Petra wasn’t sure which door she wanted to open less: the one to her dorm room, to the dark dungeon of extravagantly attired animals, or the one to the common-room, to the freezing wrath of humanity’s most deadly soldier. Both options were bad.

They filed in in a line, and Eld took himself to the sink to wash the molasses off his arms, which the Captain allowed. He was sat at the head of the table with a cup of tea, his disdain theatrically half-illuminated by the fire.

“So. Anyone plan on telling me what the hell I just witnessed?”

His question gave way to frantic babbling and stammering, and several utterances of the words ‘Eld’ and ‘Night of the Wraiths’. He waited, wearily sipping his tea until the rabble of noise slowly petered out, as each member of the squad floundered and gave up one by one. He had a way about him that seemed to ground every situation back in reality, and they collectively found that the ridiculous frivolity of their evening thus far could not be adequately explained or justified.

“This may surprise you, but I don’t give a damn what you dimwits do with your free time. Having said that, I also don’t appreciate returning to a screeching banshee’s nest.”

He took another sip, and the four squad members remained silent and still as the night air. Petra once again found herself mesmerised by him as he sat in the glow of the flames. It was seriously hard to gauge his mood, but he seemed less irked than she’d anticipated.

“Tch.”

…Or maybe not.

He finished his cup and stood up, leaning forward with his hands on the table as she’d noticed him do in the couple of briefings they’d had before formation practice. He stared at Eld pointedly.

“You wouldn’t happen to know why Hange thinks they can store all their bullshit in my office now, would you?”

Petra side-eyed Eld, whose eyebrows twitched, “No Captain.”

The Captain narrowed his eyes, “I mention it because it’s a problem for you. The room is currently a disgusting hell-hole. It’s impossible to work in, which is why I had to come back here. Course, I had no idea _what_ I was returning to, as it turns out.”

“The Section Commander is storing stuff in your office? Why? …and what?” Gunther asked with genuine confusion.

The Captain kept his eyes trained on Eld as he spoke, “It’s overflowing with arbitrary lab crap and some parts for titan-trap prototypes. Though I didn’t get a good look because I was too busy leaving. Not only has it set me further behind on paperwork, but now there isn’t anywhere for us to hold your performance review tomorrow. Or was that part of your plan?”

Eld cleared his throat, “We can always have the review somewhere else, sir.”

Light jumped through the Captain’s eyes.

“Is that so? And where would you have it?”

Petra’s eyes widened. Wait, _this_ was Eld’s plan to help her?

“In the mess hall, sir.”

The Captain scoffed, “Seems appropriate, based off this evening.”

He stood up fully, pinching the bridge of his nose and strongly exhaled. The line still stood nervously watching him. After a few moments, he made his way to the door.

“Get it together. _All_ of you. That’s an order.”

The group loudly and simultaneously breathed out when he’d gone. Petra hadn’t realised how little she’d been breathing the whole time the Captain was speaking, and she felt a bit dizzy.

It seemed he’d let them off lightly.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, “I’ll make us some tea.”

Not wanting to stand in the awkward line any longer, she busied herself collecting the Captain’s empty cup, and preparing a new pot.

Eld leant on the wall, arms folded, “All things considered, that didn’t go as badly as I thought it would.”

Oruo growled and started for him but Gunther put a hand on his shoulder and glanced over in warning.

“Pfft. You really think I want to hang around and have _tea_ with you suckers after this?” Oruo grumbled.

“You don’t have to stay.” Petra said, “You could always go back to rearranging your room.”

“Did you find your clothes yet?” Eld teased.

Oruo whipped around, steaming, “My _what?!_ ”

“So that’s a no.”

Oruo slammed his fist on the table, and tore out of the room.

“Alright, Eld.” Gunther began, “Enough pissing around. Where’d you put them.”

“His clothes?”

“My _books._ ”

“Ah. Well, you’d have to ask the Wraiths.”

“God damn-”

“Eld, come on.” Petra looked at him seriously.

He caught her eye, sighing, “They’re under your bed man. You obviously didn’t look at _all_.”

Gunther huffed and left, passing Oruo as he was rushing back into the room, hands full of brightly coloured material, and his eyes dark, “Thongs? You replaced all my clothes…with women’s thongs?!”

Eld smiled cheekily, “I had a little help with that one.” He glanced over at Petra, who instantly began singing to herself and rushing about with the tea. She was flitting between points in the kitchenette like an indecisive hummingbird.

Balls. If she’d realised just how far Eld was going to go with it, she wouldn’t have helped him. Though he had potentially managed to get the Captain to the mess hall at lunch tomorrow as he’d promised…

“Petra?” Oruo’s voice rasped. He sounded genuinely quite hurt, “You…helped?”

She turned to him, his expression was nothing short of distraught, and all his previous rage had apparently drained away. Oh god. She actually felt guilty. For _Oruo_. The most selfish jerk in the world.

She sputtered, “I-”

“Don’t get too mad Oruo, I needed to spend my winnings on something, and I couldn’t very well buy that many thongs myself, they’d laugh me out of the lingerie shop.” Eld joshed.

“I can’t believe you would…” Oruo looked down miserably at his fistful of underwear, then back up to Eld with renewed rage, “And _you_ \- son of a bitch - spending your winnings on women’s thongs just so you could prank me? Get a life.”

He snorted angrily and left the room. Seconds later, they heard a door slam.

“Gee. No-one has a sense of humour today huh?” Eld sighed.

Petra quietly removed the tea leaves from the pot and evenly poured two cups.

“Are you mad at me too?” He asked sincerely, taking his cup, “You know, It wouldn’t have been fair not to get you as well.”

Petra blinked, and lifted her tea to her lips, “I _could_ be persuaded to forgive you.” She said curtly, “If you remove those abominations from my room and never mention it ever again.”

“Deal.”

They clinked their teacups together.

“How did you find out about my fear by the way?”

He tapped his nose, “Trick of the trade buddy.”

Petra frowned.

“Happy Night of the Wraiths pal.” He muttered.

She smiled wryly. “Happy Night of the Wraiths, asshole.”


	11. Chapter 11

**The New and Improved Special Ops Squad - Week One - Friday**

Levi had been pleasantly surprised by the diligence of his squad so far today, especially as Erwin was once again surveying them this morning; the first of his weekly observations until the new line-up of the squad had made it through their first expedition together.

It was good to know they had taken his warning seriously the previous evening, though it appeared they’d also completely stopped talking to one another at all, which he found a little unsettling.

They were back out on ODM run two practicing a new formation he’d put together at speed from the small desk in his dorm room the night before. His current lack of office space was proving extremely irritating, and he was yet to get the bottom of the situation, though he had his strong suspicions.

Had everyone lost their damn minds?

One moronic evening of the year and even the most esteemed and high-ranking soldiers turned into utter children. He knew some people called it the _infant_ ry, but he never expected everyone to take it so literally.

When he’d stormed down to Erwin’s office upon finding his own jam-packed with garbage, he’d found it empty, a slip of paper on the desk which read:

_‘Gone to visit Nile. Happy Night of the Wraiths.’_

It took a serious amount of self control not to break a chair that time. And when Hange handed him the note which permitted them to store things in his office: the note that he himself had supposedly written, he’d grabbed the front of their shirt so firmly it was close to ripping. Just thinking about it was ruining his mood.

He came to a stop, hearing the familiar high-pitched squealing. Eld hung in the air looking a little bored, like he knew he’d be the one to run out of gas today. He’d been lucky too in that there were no dummies around at this point in the course, and therefore it would be very easy for him to be ‘rescued’.

“Oruo.” Levi ordered, “You’re up. Get Eld and follow on behind.”

“Captain, with all due respect sir, if Eld died beyond the wall, I’d leave him there.”

Levi’s sharp glower was all it took for Oruo to instantly change his attitude, and he fearfully zipped off to fetch the ‘dead-weight’ Eld.

The damn gall.

He could faintly hear the pair of them bickering from behind him as they all made their way further through the trees. He blew air through his nose, scowling. Erwin better be out of earshot of their childishness. If they kept this up, there was no limit to the number of laps he was planning on making them run.

Targets were coming up.

He turned back to the squabbling pair. Did they think he couldn’t hear them?

“Oruo, hang back. And shut your mouth.”

He flipped back around and caught Gunther’s eye to his right, and Petra’s to his left. They were still working on non-verbal communication for the most part, and it was particularly important for dispatches.

He indicated to Gunther to take out the smaller four-metre target, and to Petra to assist him with the seven-metre, which they instantly did. Mere seconds passed and the area was declared clear enough for Oruo to bring his limp blonde cargo through and they could continue onward.

He didn’t know why, perhaps because it was her first week, or perhaps because Erwin was once again surveying them, but he kept mindlessly checking on Petra’s position. It seemed that a part of his subconscious was overly fixated on her performance. He’d catch himself searching her out through the trees as they raced through the course, and he’d watch her form as she executed spin cuts for a half a second longer than any of the other squad members.

It wasn’t much, but he’d noticed himself noticing…which in itself was strange.

“Petra.” He commanded, “Take Eld and follow from the back.”

There. That’d stop him focusing on her during dispatches. He had to spread his attention through the team evenly.

Petra was standing on a branch not too far from him, staring with an expression of serious concern.

“What is it?” He snapped, and she blinked several times before composing herself.

“N-nothing Captain. Right away.” She stammered, before taking to the trees again to find Oruo.

—

Oh lord.

Petra had met Oruo on a branch and he’d passed Eld over to her…though all three of them were evidently wary about it.

Had it been a fireman’s lift, and they were on the ground, she might have managed to carry him more easily, or even at all, but movement with the ODM gear was so complicated already, and she didn’t have the ground beneath her skeleton helping her with the weight. She barely made it one swing through the trees (cursing consistently) with him under her arm, and in that one ‘simple’ action he’d nearly plummeted as she struggled to grip him.

God she really had to think. Maybe she should just give up now and hand him over to the stationed cadets and face whatever punishment the Captain dished out. Somehow she had to find a way around this. She was _not_ going to be responsible for the severe injury or potential death of her team mate, especially not because of a simple training exercise.

They had stopped on a high wide branch, aware that they were falling seriously behind the group and Eld stood up from where she’d placed him.

She sighed, rubbing her temples, “Get back down, you’re supposed to be dead.”

“If we carry on like this, I _will_ be, and you’re gonna put your back out killing me. No offence, but I’d rather die heroically in the field than because you couldn’t lift me in a training exercise.”

Petra sniffed. She felt like a deadbeat again. Just like she had when she was trialling.

“Fine.” She said sharply, “What do you suggest?”

An irrational kind of burning exasperation was descending over her. She was already sick of feeling like the weakling of this group, and it’d only been one week. It wasn’t her fault she was so small. She just didn’t have the muscle mass of the others. Damn the damn Captain, giving everyone unrealistic expectations of the weights smaller people could carry.

“See if you can do better with me on your back, piggyback style.” He said, eyeing her evenly, “Then you aren’t using your muscles to lift me so much and I can grip on to you properly if we start having problems.”

“Mm.” She sulked, scowling into the forest.

“Let’s just see if we can make it one swing.” He urged.

—

Where the hell were they?

They’d disappeared almost instantly, and as much as Levi wanted to trust that they’d catch up to the group, he was beginning to doubt they would. Perhaps putting her at the back with Eld hadn’t been the smartest idea.

It was a problem for a number of reasons, the main one being that being split up like this in the field drastically lowered _everyone’s_ chances of survival, plus at some point in training they’d have to swap over who was carrying the dead-weight and who was working together taking out targets.

It was also substantially slowing their run time, which wasn’t that important, though it was irritating when he knew they could do better.

Another, much smaller problem was that Levi found that just because she was out of sight hadn’t meant Petra was out of mind. In fact, he’d been thinking about their position at the back almost the entire time since he’d sent her there.

He might’ve been a little rash in asking her to carry someone so much heavier than herself. No; he couldn’t coddle her. Everyone on the team had their burdens to bear in training. Turned out hers was just a little more literal.

And it was completely natural to focus on the newest member of a team more than the others; it was important to make sure they were assimilating.

He halted mid-air and came to a stand-still on a tree, his legs crouched on the trunk, hooked in to the higher branches. Oruo and Gunther clocked his stop, and convened nearby, awaiting any instruction. Levi did nothing but stare back down through the course, frowning and waiting.

—

At least his piggyback idea was kind-of working…very slowly.

Through the trees in front, Eld saw the rest of the squad had stopped, the Commander up even further ahead, like an aloof and remote owl, sporting an indecipherable expression.

Yes, he shouldn’t have been looking, ‘dead’ people couldn’t see. And _yes_ , he shouldn’t have been actively clinging to Petra with his arms locked about her neck, ‘dead’ people couldn’t control their muscles, but there was just no other way. It was that or immediately fall hundreds of feet to the ground, scrambling mid-air to fire a hook into a tree, and ‘dead’ people could _not_ fire hooks into trees. The squad’d have to help her gain a lot of upper body strength if they wanted her to be able to carry any of them for more than ten seconds using the gear, and Eld didn’t personally think that was a good use of their time.

Why not place her in dispatch up front where she shone and could make full use of her excellent teamwork skills? If one of them died or was severely injured beyond the wall, she could always send for help. Granted, _maybe_ it wasn't a _terrible_ idea to trial run her getting someone back to the group, but two seconds into her trying it was very clear she just wasn’t ready for that kind of challenge yet.

The squad just didn’t need Petra’s help in this area, not right now anyway…surely what they _needed_ was her to provide an example of being an excellent assist, to bring the team together. Wasn’t that the whole point of recruiting her?

—

They came to a stop for probably the hundredth time on a high wide branch near the team; Petra dripping with sweat and panting as she crouched and placed Eld down on it. Hoo boy.

She heard the tinny sound of wires and instantly the Captain appeared on the branch beside the pair.

He held her eyes for a few seconds without saying a word, and she gazed back from her half hunched position of fatigue, stabilising herself with a hand on the tree trunk.

Was he angry? It was impossible to know.

She was frustrated. She didn’t want to disappoint him, but she was also trying her best and he had to have some realistic expectations of what she could achieve; she’d only been on his squad for a week.

He moved his gaze to forest floor, but continued to stand, deep in thought, saying nothing. Petra peeked at Eld, who was laid out across the branch; he opened a single eye which seemed to ask _“what the hell is going on?”_ and she shook her head in response.

—

Levi’d messed up. And he was overthinking this, likely because of the pressure from Erwin.

“Next time, use your flare.” He said suddenly, eyes still fixated on the ground, “Go on ahead, I’ll take it from here.”

—

_‘It?’_

Eld’s eyes opened again and he raised an eyebrow.

—

‘Use your flare?’ As in…ask for help?

Petra sighed as she continued through the course. She supposed that was reasonable, but she was left with a sour feeling. It was almost worse than being reprimanded for slowing everyone down.

Her confidence had taken another knock. She’d have to reinstate it by absolutely ruining the napes of some dummies.

She pulled herself up, flinging herself through the branches at speed, looping, flipping and demolishing dummy titans. As fabric and wood splintered through the air, she could already feel some joy returning.

—

“Why put her at the back with me Captain? That’s not the best use of the squad’s skills.”

Levi considered dropping Eld.

They maintained an even distance behind the squad, who were practically bulldozing the course with a renewed sense of vigour. They were already making time back.

Had Levi himself _also_ been slowing them down…because he was preoccupied?

“Captain, I’m serious. Beyond the wall it’d be too risky for her to try and carry one of us back if we sustained casualties.”

And had Eld forgotten his performance review was less than an hour away?

“You’re talkative for a dead body.”

He could practically feel Eld rolling his eyes. Hindsight was a glorious thing of course.

Overall this morning had been fairly strong. Oversight aside, he’d learned something about how this new set-up of the squad was going to function, and he’d learned something about his own response to it. That meant he could plan for it. And that was exactly what he’d tell the Commander.

********************

It was time.

Julia was giving an encouraging shoulder massage to Petra, who was sat opposite Hannah in the mess hall. On the other side of the hall, Eld sat opposite the Captain, embroiled in conversation. She couldn’t believe he’d actually managed to get him there. Eld was truly a master of scheming.

In a few minutes, she’d make her way over, and try not to get herself immediately dismissed from the elite squad she’d only just joined. They were on their own table, so at least there might be be minimal witnesses to what was about to happen.

“How are you feeling?” Hannah asked, her eyes blazing.

“Try not to look so excited. He’s not going to agree to it.” Petra replied shortly.

“I’m not so sure about that one.” Jules added from behind her, “Weren’t you the one telling us that the Captain was always surprising you?” It might have been in her mind, but Petra swore that Jules’s fingers dug into her shoulders with a little more force.

Had she really said that out loud? To people? Flip. Here came the blush again. How embarrassing. She’d have to stop drinking so much ale when she visited them.

She coughed, “I - um.”

Hannah raised her eyebrows.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.” Petra said quickly and firmly, she wasn’t going to indulge those raised brows. She stood from their bench with a confidence that she certainly didn’t feel.

Hannah and Julia tailed her to the Captain’s table with an effervescent enthusiasm. They were doing a truly terrible job of seeming casual as they approached. When Petra stopped, they continued walking past and came to hang by the wall a couple of metres away, where they could catch Petra’s eye, just to further embarrass her.

Petra just stood there.

She could’ve approached the two men like a normal person, said hello, asked to join them maybe, but _no_ , she had to stop and stand vacantly, lurking next to them for a horrible amount of time, frozen with dread, not saying a single word.

Why wasn’t she doing anything? Had they even noticed she was there? She scrunched up her face. Oh god. Just say _something_ , literally _anything_.

She caught the Captain look up at her blankly, though upon closer inspection, she could have sworn there was a glimmer of confusion in his eyes. On catching his shift in attention, Eld turned around;

“Petra? Fancy seeing you here!” He chattered brightly, “Having a good lunch break so far? And _what_ , I wonder, brings you all the way over to this side of the mess hall?”

He was so darn smug. She’d have to get him back later. It wasn’t helping that she could hear the giggling of her two ex-squad mates from over by the wall.

She hardened herself, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Now or never.

“Captain Levi - sir - I’m here to challenge you to an arm wrestle.”

Good lord. She kept her eyes tight shut. If they were shut, nothing bad could happen, right?

“Alright.”

Wait… _what?_

Her eyes flickered open and she stared at him. He returned her gaze measuredly, even with a hint of amusement,

“If I win, you can assist me with the paper work this month. I _would_ get you to tidy my office as well but Eld has already very kindly offered to do that.”

Eld side-eyed her and shrugged sheepishly. Did that mean he’d been found out?

So it was either lose an arm wrestle and assist the Captain with his paperwork for a month or run away now and commit herself to the same month’s worth of oiling Hannah’s gear, not to mention having to face the embarrassment of her cowardice. Either way she lost out.

Jeez, how had one dumb dare become all these stupid commitments to different people?

“What’s the hold up? Take a seat.”

“…and if _I_ win, Captain?”

His eyebrows twitched ever so slightly. Somewhere in her periphery she could make out Eld’s muffled guffaws.

“I’ll do my own paperwork.”

Petra’s mouth fell open.

“Problem?”

Yes!

“N-no sir.” She muttered taking a seat on the bench next to Eld.

“And because I’m feeling generous, I’ll use my left.”

So this was actually happening then.

He leant his elbow on the table, hand in the air in invitation, his grey eyes never leaving hers in quiet challenge. There was something extra in his usual expression, so subtle, but he seemed to be ignited, as though he were revelling in this turn of events.

Petra was not one to back down from a challenge. Even a completely idiotic one like this. She wasn’t foolish enough to consider for a second that she had any chance of beating him, even with her dominant left, but she’d be damned if she didn’t give it a good go.

Her eyes narrowed, and she brought her hand to his with a clap. Her breath hitched a little as she felt a slight jolt of something through her, like a connected circuit. His hand was rough from the gear, but it also had a certain softness and warmth that she wasn’t expecting.

Eld excessively cleared his throat, “Ladies, Gentlemen, Diners of the Mess-”

They both shot him a sharp look. Petra could once again hear Hannah and Jules giggling and whispering.

“Right, sorry. Three-two-one-go!”

It was over basically before it had begun.

Petra and Eld burst out laughing as her hand was instantly smashed against the table and the Captain let go, the same faint trace of amusement gracing his features.

All that planning for less than a second of action.

“That settles that. Tuesdays and Thursdays after drills. My office.” He stood and made his way away from the table.

“Aren’t you gonna do best of three?” Eld called after him.

Petra clouted him on the arm as Hannah and Julia slipped into the bench opposite, bursting with astonished, excitable energy.

“Holy fuck that was cool.” Julia babbled.

Hannah put her hand out to shake Petra’s, “Short-stuff, I gotta hand it to ya, you actually pulled it off - I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Are you guys kidding me? That was totally pathetic and embarrassing.” Petra said meekly.

Eld clapped a hand to her back, “Nah, for a second there it really looked like you had him.”

Petra snort-laughed, “Nice of you to say it lasted a second,” and then, shaking Hannah’s hand, “Looks like you owe me a dare in return.”

Hannah grinned and nodded.

It was actually really nice to be surrounded by friends from both her squads.

She looked from her old pals back to Eld, “Wait - I don’t think you guys have met? Hannah, Jules, this is Eld, he’s-”

Julia lifted a hand out to stop her, “We’ve met.”

Petra froze, clocking the shame-faced expressions of all three of her companions.

“What? When?”

They were all looking at each other, none of them wanting to speak first. Jules nudged Hannah who bit her lip.

“Uh…” She looked back to Jules for support.

“We might have had some essential information regarding certain animals wearing certain human clothes that Eld needed for an undisclosed purpose…”

Petra stared openmouthed. And she’d tried to blame Oruo. She should have fucking known. Where else could he have found that out.

“I can’t be _lieve_ -”

“We’re sorry!” Hannah and Jules jointly proclaimed with rueful, sparkling wide-eyes.

“I thought you had my back!” Petra said incredulously.

“I’m sure Oruo would say the same thing to you.” Eld remarked with a teasing _‘holier-than-thou’_ expression.

Darn. He had her there. She pouted and folded her arms, boring into him with her indignation.

“What? I’m just saying.” He chirped, standing from the bench, “Now, it was lovely to see you all again, let’s do this more often. I think we should get a betting circle going - In a few weeks she might last longer than zero seconds.” He looked directly at Petra, “I’ll see you this evening, and don’t be late - I’m making apology stew.”

She bet herself that he’d made apology stew many times before in his life.

“Where are you going?”

“I have an office to clean.” He seemed resigned to his fate, nodding once and dismissing himself.

********************

“Are those…flowers?”

Levi distantly inspected the tiny vase of pumpkin-orange posies embellishing the Commander’s desk from his position by the door. This meeting was last minute; it was only supposed to be short, and it had already been derailed.

“Do you like them?” Erwin glanced up from writing, narrowing his eyes a touch.

“…”

The Commander chuckled, going back to his work, “They provide an autumnal liveliness that I find quite pleasing.”

So Erwin was fannying about with flowers now?

Levi scowled.

“Your squad Levi-”

“I told you before. It was an oversight. It won’t happen again.”

Erwin raised his monstrous brows, returning his pen to its ink pot, “That wasn’t what I was going to say.” There was a crafty glint in his eye that set Levi on edge a little, it was a side of Erwin he’d witnessed on rare occasions, rather like when he’d had a bit to drink.

“I have a request of you and your squad, if you’ll hear it.”

Levi wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Go on.”

Ultimately though, he couldn’t deny any request from Erwin. He folded his arms.

“Following the next expedition is the annual winter parade in Trost. Nile informed me yesterday evening that funders would be in attendance, and I’ve secured an invite to the benefit following the parade.”

Levi’s nostrils flared. The thought of spending any time around those rich pigs was enough to set his teeth on edge, let alone that disgusting word ‘parade’ that Erwin had used. Dicking around with bright-ass colours, flags and dumb floats? No thanks.

“So what? You want us to sweet talk the swine?”

“Not exactly. I want your squad to take part in the parade, along with Mike's and Hange's.”

Shit. That was the worst thing Erwin could have said.

“The Garrison and MP’s have slots, so we’ll follow them. We have to be a spectacle to garner interest, so I think it would be good to make use of your team’s high level ODM skill through the city streets.”

Levi snorted, “Are you gonna make us dress as angels or some shit as well?”

There was a pause and he had a horrible feeling that Erwin was actually considering it. His stomach went cold.

“No, I think that would be lacking some nuance.” Erwin thought for a moment, “Though perhaps something little more eye-catching than the standard uniform isn’t a terrible idea. I’ll make an appointment with the scout’s tailor and see what we come up with.”

Levi wanted to throw himself out the window. He was beginning to get a headache from intensely clenching his jaw.

“…is that all?” He asked quietly and testily. He needed to get out of this office immediately, before he dug this hole any deeper and they ended up singing carols as well.

“Yes.” Erwin smiled, "Thank you Levi.”


	12. Chapter 12

The stew did smell great. Eld knew it had to, because Gunther had emerged from his room with his book and plopped himself on the sofa. He still hadn’t said a word to Eld since the novel-hiding incident the previous evening, but this seemed like a prime opportunity to make amends; after all, that’s what apology stew was all about.

“How’s the book?” Eld asked casually, rolling out some basic dumplings, “Did the wayward mage get his revenge yet?”

Gunther huffed, “ _Her_ revenge and yeah right. I’m only on chapter twelve and she still hasn’t killed this goblin princess who stole the cursèd orb of-”

Gunther caught himself, and glanced up in a kind of shock; he realised that he’d broken his silent promise to ignore Eld. He snorted, “Why do you care? I thought this was all nerd stuff to you.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not interested.”

The room fell back into silence again, but the atmosphere was peaceful. Eld could already feel the stew’s magic working. He reckoned even Oruo might be won back over once he’d tasted the dumplings. They were his mother’s special recipe and he’d managed to wrangle some thyme to make them that much more flavoursome.

“Mmmm smells delicious!”

Petra waltzed in glowing in her long pastel yellow nightshirt, fresh from the shower with a towel round her neck and a crossword puzzle in hand, “Do you need any help?”

Eld smiled, “Nah, you’re all good.”

She made her way to the table by the fireside and sat contentedly scanning the puzzle, her chin in her hand in thought.

Eld finished rolling out dumplings and checked his simmering stew, before placing them one by one on top of it and covering the pot.

“Go on then, give us a clue.”

Petra glanced up, eyebrows raised, “Are you sure? I really don’t think you can help me.”

Eld smarted, “How rude - try me.”

She pressed her lips together and caught his eye, “ ‘Underground store for a vendor, so we hear.’Six letters.”

What on earth…?

Eld made a face and Gunther looked up from his book.

“The hell?” Gunther quietly grumbled.

Underground store…underground…for vendor? We hear?

Oh.

Eld crossed his arms, scowling, “You son-of-a-bitch, you never said it was cryptic.”

Petra tittered, “Well, you never asked.”

—

Levi had been stood at the doorway to the common room for several minutes. Thankfully no-one seemed to have noticed him.

He didn’t want to go in.

The renewed social life of his squad was simply an unintended and tiresome side-effect of Petra joining. To think that this room, which for six months had been cold and empty had suddenly become aglow with light, cooking smells and activity, for at least three days on end…it was quite something and he didn’t know if he was more exasperated or amazed at the change.

He didn’t need tea that badly. He’d return to his room.

…

Eld moved to lean on the kitchen counter, “I was thinking-”

“A dangerous hobby.” Petra interrupted, seeming pleased with herself and Eld smirked.

“I was _thinking_ \- how about we go to the quiz at the tavern tomorrow, you know, as a squad?”

Hm. Now they were all making plans together.

Gunther grunted, “Sure, why not.”

Petra hummed sweetly a moment, once again looking up from her puzzle, “Mm. Maybe…that could be fun…”

She sighed softly, her head in her hand in thought, a small smile gracing her lips and the faintest pink tint to her cheeks. The firelight was illuminating her hair in radiant reds and golds, and sparking in her huge amber eyes. Her eyelashes gently fluttered as she removed the towel from her neck and folded it perfectly, placing it on her lap; the same way she’d folded her apron when Levi’d shared his tea with her in the mess hall. She seemed to move so gracefully; almost in slow motion, down to the tiniest movements she was pristine.

“Maybe? Could?” Eld asked accusingly.

She pushed some silken hair behind her ear, and licked her lips, a look in her eyes suggesting that she was considering how best to continue, “It _will_ be fun. It’ll be strange being on a different team to usual…that’s all I meant.”

“Cellar.”

The word left him before he’d even had a chance to consider it. He mentally cursed himself, catching all their eyes on him.

Eld spoke first, “Captain?”

They remained staring at him expectantly and he realised that leaving without another word was becoming an ever diminishing option.

“An underground store, cellar. Or a vendor…seller. So we hear.”

Petra blinked several times, realisation slowly dawning across her face and she luminously beamed, scribbling the letters into her puzzle.

It seemed that spending all that time sat by Farlan while he’d done crosswords had rubbed off on him. Strange…he’d always hated them. Sudoku was much better.

—

How did he…?

“Thank you Cap-”

But he was gone. Petra stared at the doorway in wonder for a moment; once again taken by surprise.

********************

**The New and Improved Special Ops Squad - Week One - Saturday**

“Come on Oruo.” She pleaded.

He still refused to look at her.

“Knees up rookies!” He barked towards the newest group of cadets as they ran around the dirt path, laden with piles of logs.

She took a step closer to him, he took a step away. They’d been at this little dance for a while. It’d been a day and a half since the ‘Night of the Wraiths’ incident, and he’d barely spoken to any of squad, disappearing from the group at every given opportunity.

“You know, you missed out on a really great stew.”

He harrumphed and walked away again, Petra sauntering after him.

“I thought you liked it when girls chased you around…”

This time he didn’t immediately walk away, but instead stood still, his face utterly joyless. He was never good at taking a practical joke, or any kind of joke at his own expense.

“Gunther’s coming.”

He glanced at her glumly, and Petra sweetly batted her lashes, which for some reason only served to deepen his scowl.

Oh boy. This was rough. He’d never not spoken to her before like this, and it was upsetting her a little more than she cared to admit. She sighed quietly to herself.

“Oruo…”

The wind blasted them for a few cold seconds as they stood side by side, arms crossed, monitoring the scampering cadets.

“Fine.” She said eventually. “For the hundredth time, I’m sorry that I helped Eld. But the rest of us are gonna be a team tonight at the quiz and it’ll be really fun and the only person who will be missing out is you because you’re too stubborn to forgive any of us.”

She looked over to him but he didn’t move an inch, only grimaced.

“Not to mention that if we win, we _won’t_ be splitting the cash with you.”

Short of just physically dragging him along and forcing him to take part, there wasn’t much else she could think to do. The optimist inside her had convinced her that he’d be over it by now, or even that he’d have forgiven her the _first_ time she apologised, but he still so clearly couldn’t let it go that she began to wonder if they’d drifted further apart than she’d realised. Ugh. This sucked, and it was making her feel like shit.

She huffed, pulling her jacket tightly around herself.

********************

“Come on Levi!” Hange chirped loudly, leaning forward on his desk with unbridled enthusiasm, “It’ll be fun - Moblit was up all night writing the questions.”

Poor Moblit. It was apparent that he never had a choice in these matters, and it was beginning to look like Levi didn’t either.

“Wouldn’t you just relish the opportunity to show your new squad everything you know?”

“Isn’t that why I train them?” Levi breathed bitterly.

His office was only just clear enough for him to work in, and now, apparently not content with having their presence entirely eradicated from it, Hange was once again filling all available space in the room.

“Hmmm I suppose that’s true.” They tapped a finger on the side of their face, “But we came so close to winning last time, and I _know_ Erwin will be disappointed if we don’t have you on our team.”

Last time. By the second half of the quiz he was on damage control again, making sure the drunk buffoons of his team didn’t embarrass themselves more than they already had. Frankly, it was above his pay grade.

“If Erwin wants me there he can come and tell me himself.”

Hange raised their brows and leant further towards him, grinning, so close that he could smell the coffee on their breath.

“You know you want to.” They prodded, “I’ll buy you a new ascot.”

He placed his pen down and looked at them pointedly and they looked back with hopeful question.

“Leave me alone Hange.”

“Absolutely! I’ll leave you alone just as soon as you agree to join our team for the quiz. Does that sound fair?”

For someone so smart, Hange’s people skills were terrible. It seemed they weren’t above trying to physically drag him along and force him to take part.

They stared at each other, neither backing down. A knock at the door broke their stalemate, and Erwin entered.

“Ah, good to catch you both.”

Hange beamed, “Looks like Erwin can tell you himself!”

Shit.

********************

Eld was glad the pair of them had agreed to be on a team with him, not least because he enjoyed their company, but also because since he’d been turned down by Anna, he felt a little awkward joining her squad’s team, as he had done for previous quizzes.

He was sure that in time the awkwardness would dwindle and fade away, but for now, he was still a little sore about it.

Gunther had gone to the bar, and Petra was staring down into her tankard. She’d seemed pretty low all day; behind her usual smiles and brightness, there was a drop of despondency.

“Small-fry. What’s eating ya?”

She continued gazing into her beer with a pained expression.

“If it’s about Oruo, he’ll come round.” He nudged.

“I hope so. He’s never ignored me like this before.” She glanced up, “It’s also just…”

She shook her head, continuing;

“God. I know this probably sounds silly…just, seeing my old squad at their table; Clara…I suddenly feel terrible and guilty again.”

Eld said nothing, but he was sure his concern was obvious. What was there to tell her that he hadn’t already? Clara’s little speech had wormed its way into her and it wasn’t letting go easily. That a _squad leader_ could be so thoughtless and uncaring towards any member of their team, let alone the pure sunbeam that was Petra, was incompetence on a new level. It was negligent.

The best thing he could do for her right now was make sure she had an enjoyable evening.

“They only had the guest draught.” Gunther said, placing a tankard in front of Eld, and taking a swig of his own before sitting, “What’s going on here? It’s like a memorial service.”

“Nothing.” Eld piped up, “We’re discussing our very valuable strategy for winning, which we _are_ going to do.”

Petra’s face flickered with a small smile. 

“Great. What’s the strategy?” Gunther questioned, ever-serious.

“I think we’re planning on knowing the _most_ correct answers to the questions out of everyone.” Petra ventured wryly.

“That’s a good start, that’s a good start.” Eld added, nodding, “But have you considered any distraction techniques we could use on the other teams? I’m personally not above flirting with Moblit to increase our score if it comes to that.”

Petra giggled and Gunther cracked a rare smile. Eld would make this evening fun if it was the death of him.

—

They were three questions and countless drinks in and Levi was hating every second of it. It was dirty, it was loud, so many people were already plastered and he didn’t know the answer to a single question. He hadn’t expected to either, why Erwin and Hange insisted on him being there was beyond him.

“Neti pot.” Mike grumbled, writing on their answer sheet.

Naturally Mike would know the answer to the question: _“What is the name for the small container with a long spout used to rinse the nasal cavities?”_

Levi scowled, holding his whiskey glass up to the candle on their table, inspecting the smudges in the light.

“Tch.”

He spat on his handkerchief and wiped the glass irritably, ignoring Moblit's questions and the prattling of his team and instead focusing on trying to get it as clean as he could.

“Levi, Levi! You _must_ know this one.” Hange cawed, they went to grab his shoulder before thinking better of it. Good. They still had some sense.

Erwin chuckled, “Hange, I’m not convinced fairytales are Levi’s forte.”

“You never know…” Their big brown eyes looked at him intently through thickly rimmed glasses, “Levi - the seven dwarfs?”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“What? No, see - we’ve already got Doc, Happy, Dopey, Sleepy, Sneezy, Bashful and…”

He glared at them.

“That’s - right! Grumpy! Did you write that one down Mike?”

For fuck’s sake.

Mike grunted and Levi stood abruptly, heading for the bar.

—

“It’s macadamia nuts.” Eld said confidently.

“I’m telling you it’s _almonds_. Have you ever even tried marzipan?” Gunther countered angrily, trying to snatch the pen.

“Petra?” Eld looked to her hopefully, “What do you think? I think we both know who’s right here.” He raised his brows, and silently pointed to himself.

Gunther crossed his arms, “Stop trying to sway her opinion.”

“When it’s a question about which of the elves has the prettiest hair I’ll let you answer it Gunther, how about that?” 

Petra observed them both dubiously. She completely unsure of course, marzipan was a luxury that she’d never tasted.

“Er…” She started, and for a split second they stopped trying to grab the pen from one another, “Is it maybe made from…cashew nuts? Those are real nuts right?”

“I see _Petra’s_ talking about nuts again. Couldn’t get her to shut up about them in cadets.”

Oruo was stood by their table, hands on hips and a scornful look on his face.

Her face dissolved into a wide grin and she stared up at him with a mix of relief and disbelief.

She raised a brow, “Of course…I’m allergic to _yours_ Oruo.”

He smirked, and pulled out a chair, “I think you might be getting _allergies_ confused with _affinities_ my dear.”

It was like a weight had been instantly lifted from her. Earlier in the day it was beginning to look like he’d never come around, yet here he was, cocky as ever. She never thought she’d actually yearn for the return of his frilly arrogance, but you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. Oruo simply wasn’t Oruo without a ludicrous level of hubris and swagger.

“While you two dorks have been chattering, we’ve missed about eighty-seven questions.” Eld said, it looked like he was writing _‘macadamia nuts’_ into the space, and Gunther had mentally checked out.

—

Levi leant on the bar, full glass of whiskey in hand, considering how long he could leave it before returning to his calamity of a quiz team. It wouldn’t be long until one of them came looking for him, he was sure of that much. Hm. They’d probably assume he was off taking a shit.

He’d clocked his own squad, sat near the window, intensely entangled in conversation, and, for the briefest of seconds, he imagined joining them. Since he’d spotted them, it appeared they’d spent most of the time arguing over who was writing the answers. There was no way they were doing well. Not that he cared.

Petra snatched the pen from Eld, giving him a slight shove, and giggling easily as she filled in the sheet.

He took a sip of his bitter drink. He was sure he felt calm, at least, as calm as he could be in such a filthy place, but for some reason his heart was hammering again. Was he sick? Perhaps whiskey didn’t agree with him as much as it used to.

—

_“The flowers that shed their leaves today,_

_Shall bloom again tomorrow._

_How grand in age, how fair in youth,_

_Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!!”_

Petra and Gunther were chanting it feverishly into each others eyes, each as excited as the other that they both knew the words.

“Write it down - write it down!” Petra practically shouted.

Oruo was massaging his temples.

Eld was absolutely bowled over, in particular by Gunther’s enthusiasm; he’d taken another step up in his willingness to make facial expressions and use the full range of his voice. Over the course of one pub quiz, Petra had managed to pull him further out of his shell than Eld had ever seen.

“Ok, what the fuck just happened? - there’s no way that whole verse is the answer. ” Eld looked to Oruo for support, as for the first time maybe ever, he was the only one who seemed to be rooted in reality.

Petra laughed, sloshing her drink around loosely in her hand, “No, _no_ , the answer is _‘Shall bloom again tomorrow’_.”

Gunther's eyes were boring into the other two men, “Have you really never heard that song?”

“Sure, _these_ are the faces of two old folk song enthusiasts.” Oruo deadpanned, gesturing to himself and Eld.

“It’s a cute song!” Petra garbled, vaguely batting Oruo’s arm and he immediately clutched the place she’d hit, gazing at her.

“It sounded like some bullshit the Wallists would sing man.” Eld responded, taking a swig of his rapidly diminishing beer.

“Next question, a riddle: _I shave every day_ \- Gelgar! Please!” Moblit was once again looking extremely flustered. Eld couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the poor guy relaxed. As the evening progressed he was having to shout even louder to fend off the various heckles from various drunk scouts. Even with Nifa working with him to try and regulate the noise levels it was becoming quite untenable.

“T-Thank you. Next question: _I shave every day, but my beard stays the same. What am I_?”

“Eld.” Oruo uttered firmly.

“Yeah?”

“I’m saying that’s the answer to the question.”

Petra guffawed, bolstering Oruo, who made some sardonic comment, and the two of them bickered about something or other. A soldier walked right by their table, casually dropping a slip of paper in front of Gunther, who keenly scanned it.

“Oh wait _I_ know.” Petra exclaimed, “A barber! That’s it, that’s right isn’t it?”

“Gunther.” Eld spoke lowly, and the man in question looked up from the slip, “What’s going on? Are you cheating? Because if so, good work.”

The muscles in Gunther’s mouth tightened and he slyly placed the paper in his pocket, “I think you’re right. It’s a barber.” He said, writing the answer in the space.

Well that was weird.

—

Levi’s team were a man down. He had an inkling where Mike might be, as Nanaba was apparently missing from her team too.

This quiz was certainly not being well regulated; which made it just like most things in the military.

At least Erwin wasn’t drunk (yet), though he had returned to the bar. Hange on the other hand had been one of the main culprits heckling Moblit. Maybe heckling wasn’t the right word; it was more like…aggressive encouragement. It was particularly unwise of Hange to drink this much, what with their squad’s upcoming titan-trap demonstrations, they had plenty of vital work to do.

“Levi - Levi…do you know…” They began, once again leaning forward across the table towards him. This time however, their breath smelled like alcohol.

“No.” His frown deepened. No way he was he going to like where this was going.

“I hhaven’t asked - do you know…” They hiccuped, “If your n-new subordinate…issssingle?”

Single?

The hell was that about.

Were they out of their damn mind?

Tch.

His fingers were pressing into his glass with some force, and the muscles in his jaw twitched.

“Spare me.”

“She’s _very_ cute. I wouldn’t mind doing some…expperiments with her…” They winked, “Hah!”

This must be what migraines felt like.

“Thought you only fucked titans.” He forced whisky down his throat.

Hange scream-laughed, throwing their head back, “N-never say never!” They beamed, lolling their head onto their hand, “She smells like…mmm…vanilla…and a curious mind too - a puzzler…” Something flashed across their face, and their grin widened, “Oh! Did y-you know that we shared a bath together?”

Levi’s chest was tight and his glass was getting ever closer to breaking in his hand.

What crime was he being punished for?

And where the fucking hell was Erwin?

—

Eld was scratching his head, “But…we’re so close to getting the answers…”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m tired, and I’m up early tomorrow feeding horses.” Gunther said flatly.

“ _I_ for one don’t blame you. I _also_ hate spending time with these dweebs.” Oruo gibed.

“Is this because of the note that guy handed you?” Eld asked pointedly.

Oruo looked at Eld in confusion, “Note?”

Petra was a little lost. A note? Some guy? Gunther was looking directly at her. His dark eyes flickered a little with something, and she realised he was imploring her. _Oh_. Some _guy_. The pieces were falling slowly into place.

She coughed, “Just let him go guys, it _is_ late. I know if I had work tomorrow morning I wouldn’t still be here.”

Eld and Oruo glanced at her quizzically.

Gunther nodded at the table once, “Alright. I’ll see you all later.”

“Have a good night.” Eld said dubiously, side-eyeing him.

“Gunther,” Petra smiled, “I hope your evening is…wonderful.”

A flash of recognition struck his face and he practically bolted from the tavern.

Once he’d disappeared, Eld placed down his tankard with some force, “Ok Petra what the hell was that about?”

“What? Nothing! If he wants to go he should be able to go! He doesn’t owe you an explanation.”

Oruo was scratching the back of his head in his usual way, his eyes flitting between the two.

Eld’s eyes narrowed, “I hope your evening is…” He paused for a frankly silly amount of time, and then with a flick of his wrist, “ _Woonderful_.”

Petra stared at him open mouthed, “That is so _not_ what I sounded like.”

“I hate to give him credit but that was quite accurate.” Oruo interjected.

“ _Oruo!_ ” She bleated.

“Look, booster-seat, it’s all good. If I swung that way I might have a little crush on Gunther too. He’s a…sturdy…sort of guy. We won’t tell, right Oruo?” He winked.

“ _Wow_.” Petra mouthed to no-one.

Oruo scowled and almost drowned himself with his drink.

There was something quite hilarious about Eld thinking she liked Gunther in _that_ way. Hmm…Eld sure did like to mess with other people…

Petra threw her hands over her face, “Oh god I just…it’s so _embarrassing!_ ”

“Huh?” The two men chorused, bewildered.

She peeled her hands away from her face, mock fanning herself with one hand, “You’re right Eld. He is _so_ … _sturdy._ What’s a girl to do?”

They continued to stare at her, open mouthed.

“Do you think he could ever - _love -_ someone like me? I mean, he probably thinks I’m too short for him. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m not his type at _all!_ ”

She was really hamming this up, and the alcohol was helping. There was no way they could be buying it-

“ _Actually_ I think you might be wrong there-” Eld began, but was cut off by a rather irate Oruo;

“Shut your hole. We’re missing the answers.”

Petra chuckled to herself.

—

What a damn waste of an evening.

“Until next month then.” Erwin chuckled, just as Levi forcefully closed Hange’s bedroom door, having dumped them (about to pass out) on their bed.

At least it was over. He only prayed that by morning Hange would have forgotten their earlier conversation. Levi was desperately trying to.

Erwin sighed heavily, hands in his pockets, “I hadn't pictured the three of us as bronze medallists.”

“Hm. Can’t win ‘em all Erwin.”

“No, I suppose not. Still, all in all a rather enjoyable evening.”

The pair of them walked a while in comfortable silence. In spite of everything, Erwin had managed to keep himself together, which Levi was glad of; it was clear that he had spotted Hange’s rapid deterioration, and wisely decided to keep himself from going down the same path.

“I was going to ask…” The taller man began, stopping in his tracks; they were directly outside his barracks.

“What?” Levi grumbled.

He hadn’t realised there was yet more he could do for the man this evening.

Erwin smiled, “Don’t worry, I won’t keep you.” He shrewdly eyed the shorter man, his blue eyes alight with some invisible intention.

Levi hated it when he looked at him like that…as though he could see right through him; as though aware of things about Levi that Levi himself wasn’t aware of.

“I only wanted to know if you’re getting any assistance with your paperwork, as we discussed.”

“Next week. Petra’s gonna help for a while.”

Erwin nodded, “I assume she has excellent handwriting then, to comply with your high standards.” He paused a moment, his expression unreadable, “Have a pleasant evening, Levi.”

And with that, he was gone.

Handwriting?

Trust Erwin to go on about paperwork after a night out drinking. Did the man never have a day off?

When he eventually returned to their Special Ops barracks, it appeared that his squad had unexpectedly turned in for the evening; though, he supposed the haphazard state of Hange had significantly delayed his return.

He fetched a towel from the cupboard and made his way to the bathroom. On opening the door he stopped still. There. The faintest scent of vanilla.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just leaving a small note to say there probably won't be a chapter next sunday - life, it happens.... but there should be one the week after :)
> 
> \+ thankss to everyone who's been reading/ commenting/ leaving kudos so far it really makes my week!


End file.
